


The Half-Blood Princess

by LivingOutLoud



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Novel Length, On Hiatus, but only slightly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:44:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 54,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingOutLoud/pseuds/LivingOutLoud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows Hermione Granger, top of the class know it all, third part of the golden trio, and a bushy haired mud blood. But does anyone really know her?</p><p>Hermione is harbouring a secret deep inside her, so close to her heart that even Harry and Ron don't know. With such an important part of her life hidden in shadows, can anyone truly understand her? Perhaps only her real father...</p><p> </p><p>At this moment this story, as well as my other unfinished works are on hiatus. I'm spending my time and energy working on an original novel. Sorry to all the fans and thank you for reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Man

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes I used * around parts of the writing. That's to show it's a direct quote from the Harry Potter books, in this case, The Philosopher's Stone

Hermione Granger woke up late as it was July and she had nothing in particular to do that day. She walked to the kitchen where both of her parents were already sitting at the round table, drinking their coffee and reading the newspaper.

“Morning, Hermione.” They said together.

“Good morning mom, good morning dad.”

The middle aged man beamed as Hermione buttered her toast. He had been his mother’s husband since she was two months old, but he still smiled each time she called him Dad. She never knew her real father and she had lived her whole life with this one, so it only seemed fitting, but he always treated that little word like it was a miracle.

Hermione walked to the front door chewing her toast. She leaned down to pick up the mail lying on the welcome mat. She was waiting for an especially interesting issue of a science magazine she subscribed to.

She picked up the mail and looked for her magazine, but it was not there. Instead, there was a letter addressed to her on the very top.

*The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, Hermione saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.*

Hermione walked back to the kitchen holding the strange letter in her hand.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Hermione’s mother asked.

“I’m not sure. There’s no return address.” Hermione sat at the table and handed the rest of the mail to her step-father. She slid her finger under the flap of the envelope and tore it open.

*“Dear Mrs. Granger,” She read aloud, “We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Her eyebrows shot up, but her parents stayed silent. She continued. “Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September first. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.”*

Hermione looked up with shock in her eyes, as both of her parents looked at each other with knowing faces.

“What’s going on? Is this some sort of a joke?”

“No, Hermione, dear.” Her step-father said.

“We always knew there was a possibility you were a witch.”

Hermione stared at her mother with her jaw open. She looked to her step-father for answers.

“You were a very odd child, Hermione. Things were always happening to you. We always thought you could be a witch.”

“After all, honey.” Her mother said. “ _He_ was a wizard.”

“But, but why didn’t you two tell me this earlier?” Hermione gripped the letter in her hand.

“There was no need to worry or confuse you if nothing came of it.” They both said in unison.

“Well, something did come of it.”

 

* * *

 

Hermione was up in her room, rereading her letter and smiling. It wasn’t about childish fantasies about magic, or of a secret world full of different people. No, she was smiling over the newness of it all: a new school, new challenges, new discoveries, and most of all, new friends. Hermione had never fit in with the other children. She was too shy, too brainy, too much of a know-it-all, and too weird. Things would be different now. She would go to Hogwarts in September and she would finally be accepted.

The door bell rang, pulling Hermione from her recent fantasies. She pokes her head out of her door and catches a glimpse of a tall, dark and greasy man. Her father tells him to go, then closes the door.

“Who was it?” Her mother asks from the living room.

“Someone just looking for directions, nothing to worry about.”

Hermione moves to her window in her room. She opens it and leans out, searching. The man is still on the street, with his hands in a cloak. Hermione watches him for a moment. He’s waiting for something.

Suddenly, like a bat out of hell, a purple bus whizzes around the corner and stops directly in front of the man. Hermione lets out a gasp, then quickly covers her mouth, but it’s too late. The dark, cloaked man turns around and looks at her window. They stare at each other. Hermione’s eyes are wide, full of curiosity and fear. The man’s eyes are wide, full of shock, but there is a smile growing on his lips. Then, the driver of the bus shouts something, breaking their eye contact, and with only a backward glance, the strange man gets on the bus.

 

* * *

 

The next time Hermione sees this man is in passing in a dingy, questionable pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Her parents and her followed the instructions given to the back of the pub where a secret entrance into the wizarding world awaited. The dark, greasy man was sitting at the bar when they entered the pub. Hermione’s eyes flew to her mother, who had noticed him too, but he took no heed, his eyes were piercing into the back of Hermione’s head.

The meeting comes to a head when Hermione and her father are searching through the book store, both soaking in everything they see, hardly focussing on the assigned books they already held in their arms. They were jolted from their intellects by a commotion from outside and the raised voice of her mother. They both rushed outside to find the woman shouting at the mysterious man.

“I’ve told you a thousand times, you will not be coming near her.” She shouted up, towards the taller man.

“Everything has changed now, she’s a witch.” He pleaded.

“She is still my daughter and I will not have her associating with the likes of you.”

“You can’t control her at Hogwarts. Not while I’m there with her.” The man spat.

“She’s smart enough to stay away.” Her mother shouted, then turned on her heel. “We’re going home.” She ordered.

It was then, when her parents were dragging her down the cobblestone road, one on each elbow, that the dark man noticed Hermione had come out. His eyes were wide with amazement as he watched her leave. Hermione stared at him over her shoulder until her parents pulled her over the thresh hold of the Leaky Cauldron.

Her mother was nearly at the car when words surfaced from Hermione’s throat.

“Was-was that my father?”

“A disgusting low life,” Her mother muttered.

“Yes,” Her step-father said, kissing her forehead, “pay no mind to him, he can’t bother you.”


	2. Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has her first experience at Hogarts, and finally meets her biological father

Hermione opened an empty rail car on the Hogwarts express, tucked her trunk under the bench, and cracked open one of her new and more favourite books, “Hogwarts, a History.” She was so engrossed, in fact that until she looked up absentmindedly, to gaze out the window, she did not notice the man – _the man_ , in fact – staring at her from the seat across from her.

“Do you know who I am?” He said slowly.

Hermione nodded and licked her dry lips, but said nothing.

The man leaned closer to her. His greasy black, shoulder length hair was his most pronounced feature. But under that hair lied a pair of brown eyes like Hermione’s, although his were darker, almost black, but both lightened and had small flecks of gold around the pupil. His nose was also like Hermione’s, with narrower nostrils and a pronounced, almost bumpy bridge. His complexion was pale, like Hermione, only she was a little more freckled, and both had thin, piano-fingers. The resemblance wasn’t striking, but Hermione could certainly see it when she was looking for it. The man saw it too as he took a good look at his daughter for the first time in his life.

“How did you get here?” Hermione finally asked.

“Your mother didn’t tell you?” the man’s face fell. “I’m a professor here.”

Hermione said nothing.

“I’ve been wishing to meet you your entire life,” Her father said, grasping at straws.

“But you never did.” Hermione said, matter of factly. “Not until now. Why?”

“Your mother wouldn’t let me.” He said.

Hermione said nothing.

“You see,” Her father went on, “By the time I found out about you, your mother had already married that other man. I begged her to let me see you, but she wouldn’t allow it. She said I didn’t belong in your world.” he smiled, “But now that you’re a witch, we belong in the same world.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “So what you’re saying is that you never planned to marry or stay with my mother, only my birth made you feel obligated?”

Hermione frowned, then before her father could get in another word, she grabbed her trunk and moved to the next car.

* * *

 

The first week at Hogwart’s hadn’t met Hermione’s standards, in fact it had been quite retched. It seemed children were the same everywhere. She was still too outspoken for her own good, too meddlesome, too much of a know it all, and too fundamentally unattractive - with large teeth and bushy hair – for boys to like. She hadn’t made a single friend since coming to Hogwarts, except perhaps Neville Longbottom: a stout, forgetful boy who found he was yelled at less if she was his partner in class. To make matters worse, she found out that her father –her only real connection in the wizarding world -was even worse off. Not only was he the head of Slytherin, her house’s arch rival, but even much of his own students didn’t really like him. So, she kept this secret to herself, afraid to become even more of an outcast because of her lineage, despite the fact that she had only met the man once in her life, on the train ride in.

But that wasn’t the sort of thing children would understand. They would make a connection between her DNA, and them not liking her and that would stick with her throughout her life, even if she never talked to the man again. So, Hermione decided to say she was a muggle born. She talked about her father, the man who had raised her, and left her biological father clean out of it. Even if there were a few students who hated muggle borns, mostly Slytherins, it was still less than the amount that hated Severus Snape.

Severus watched his daughter from a distance and was sad to see that she was much like him. She was relatively friendless, she didn’t fit in well, due to both her appearance and her intelligence, and she was ashamed of her family -him in particular. He didn’t blame her of course, not even for lying about who her real father was. He had tried to do the same thing in his first year as well, though it never worked. He only wished she could get along better. He had always imagined her to be like her mother, or even her step father, not him. But it seemed she was: against both their wishes.


	3. Halloween and Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the school year picks up, things start looking up a little more for Hermione.

Severus found himself constantly thinking of Hermione. Whether he was teaching her class, or another class of her peers. Whether he was eating in the great hall and could see her, or was wandering the grounds and thinking what she was doing.

He was worried for her. He worried she wouldn’t fit in, or she wouldn’t be happy. He was worried about Harry Potter, and that red headed friend, who pestered her just as Harry’s father used to pester him. He felt sad when she ate relatively alone, but mostly Snape felt guilty. He should have been there in her life. Sure, her mother had outright banned him, but he should have tried harder. In all honestly, he hadn’t tried hard. He had written letters, he had thought about it, he had called on the phone once or twice, walked past her house at night, and said a few words to the husband from time to time, but not much. He should have stood his ground. He should have marched into her house and begged –no, demanded to see his daughter. But he had given up. Let her win. He was doing the same thing now. No, it was worse now, Hermione hadn’t even told him to stay away, not technically. But he did anyway, like a scorned child. He was ignoring his only child –his only anything, at her time of need. He was her father after all and should be doing something.

His thoughts were broken by a noise outside of his office, where he had been sitting, pondering. He had heard something a few minutes ago, a scraping, but assumed it was the Slytherins on their way back and forth from the common room making a ruckus. But something was different this time, more menacing. Suddenly. Severus remembered the date –halloween. It was likely this was a prank going on right under his nose.

Snape rose from his desk and clamoured to the door to find a breeze rolling through the hall. It was peculiar, as they were underneath ground level. He found the source of the air, an open door into the pits of the castle, some of the most deep dungeons. Coming from the doorway was a mixture of mud and drool which had been stuck to the foot some creature, and was now tracked down the hall and up the staircase. Snape followed the tracks up the winding stairs to the main floor. He was close enough to the main hall (trying to find the path as the prints dwindled off) to hear the commotion as students filed out. He paid little mind to their movement, but listened carefully to their chatter about the troll. He set his eyes to finding the prints again, scouring the polished floors for any sign of mud or drool. He caught what he thought was a glimmer of spit and went back to the search. The trail went cold for quite some time, then he would find a bit of mud and go back on the chase. He was rounding a corner, following a scuffed floor board when he heard several shouts and a loud bang. He went running to the source, the woman’s washroom. He opened the door, first to find the unconscious troll lying on its back, then Harry Potter and his friend Weasley –no real surprise, then to his fright, his own daughter standing next to them.

Severus saw the tears still gleaming in her eyes, and the fear behind that. She looked directly at him, which only made the fear in her grow. He was about to speak to her, when McGonagall and several other teachers arrived. Once Hermione had told her story to them, Snape was so angry he wouldn’t have been able to speak to her without yelling anyway.

* * *

 

Hermione gets onto the train to go home for the Christmas. She pulls her bag along the corridor, chatting with Neville, who was also going home. They found an empty car and tucked their luggage away before sitting down together.

“It’s a shame Harry and Ron aren’t going home too, though I suppose Harry doesn’t want to.” Neville said.

“Yes, I suppose.” Hermione mumbled, looking out the window.

“I suppose you’ll miss them over break.”

“Mmh.” Hermione nodded a little.

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she would miss them. It would be nice to have some time with her parents. And to be without them for a while. She was growing tired of their constant discussions about the Philosopher’s Stone, and about Snape. She still wasn’t sure what sort of a man her father was, but she didn’t want to think that he could be in league with You-Know-Who.

“Are you and your parents doing anything special over the holidays?” Neville asked.

“We’re having dinner with the extended family, grandparents, cousins, and things. Are you doing anything?”

“It’s just me and Gran.” Neville said, “That’s alright though, I’ve missed her.”

“I hope you have a happy Christmas.” Hermione said.

Neville beamed, “You too, Hermione.”

Hermione did have a good Christmas. She was still stuffed from their family dinner two days later, as she lied on the living room floor, in front of the fire place. There was a plate of left-overs to her left and her quill and half done essay to the right. She scribbled things down, while flipping through her potions book and stuffing her turkey sandwich into her mouth at the same time.

“What teacher gave you homework over the break?” Her father laughed, setting himself down in a chair near Hermione’s head.

Hermione looked up at him, “Professor Snape,” She whispered, almost ashamed.

Her father nodded, “How are you finding him?”

“He’s strict, and grumpy, and loud, but there’s nothing wrong with him, in particular.” Hermione shrugged.

“That’s how I found him too, the few times I spoke with him. Not particularly enjoyable, but not bothersome enough to pay any mind to.”

Hermione focussed on the essay in front of her, biting her lip. “He –he hasn’t tried to be around me. At all.” She whispered.

Hermione’s father slid onto his knees, and placed his hand on Hermione’s back. “Come here, sweet heart.” He pulled her into a hug.

“I don’t think he cares.” Hermione said.

“He cares, he cares about you very much, Hermione. I just don’t think he’s that assertive about his emotions is all.”

Hermione looked up at him quizzically.

“He used to come around here,” he said, “especially when you were little. He used to come around dusk, or just after dark. And he would come rushing up to the door with his black cloak billowing around him, and I could see his hand was on his wand, and he would stand there on the steps, and I would stand in front of the door with my arms crossed. He would tell me he had to come in. He had to see you. He had to talk with your mother. I’d tell him no. I’d tell him you were asleep, or mom was sick, or I’d just tell him no. Then his hand would drop and his shoulders would slump and he’d turn around and go back to wherever he came from.”

“He did?” Hermione said.

“He did. He used to do it all the time. He did it less when you were older. But he would always leave, just like that, without so much as an argument. As time went on, sometimes he wouldn’t even come to the door. He’d just stand on the street for a minute or two.” He sighed, “I don’t think he’s got much of a back bone. No idea how to stand up to people, or fight for what he wants. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

Hermione smiled up at her father as he kissed her on the forehead.

“You’d better go wash your face,” He said, “Before your mother figures out what you’re getting upset about.”

* * *

 

Hermione was back at Hogwarts on January 5th. Harry and Ron met her at the entrance hall, welcoming her home with a big hug. Harry took her luggage bag from her, and Ron took the bag full of the clothes and books her family had given her for Christmas. Together they went up to the common room, as Harry and Ron talked quickly about Harry’s mysterious gift and about the Mirror of Erised.

“Me and Harry left your gift on your bed, sorry we were so late getting it.” Ron turned red.

“That’s alright, Ron, it’s the thought that counts, not the timing. Did you like mine?”

Both boys smiled, nodding.

“I’ll see you in the common room in a minute.” Hermione said.

Hermione took her bag from the boys and stepped into her room, which was now beginning to fill with the other girls. She put her bags down on the bed, and surveyed the three presents laying on her bed.

“Harry and Ron too slow to give it to you before you left, Hey?” Pavarti said.

“I guess, yeah.” Hermione flushed, opening what was obviously a book, wrapped in what seemed to be the leftover wrapping from their own presents.

“It looks like you’ve got an admirer, with all those presents.” Lavender giggled.

“No, it’s just a book from Harry and Ron.”

“And the other ones?” The girls giggled.

Hermione ripped open Mrs. Weasley’s package to find a mustard yellow sweater with a large H on it.

“So much for an admirer,” Lavender laughed, walking away.

What’s in the other one?

Hermione picked up the last gift. It is a small, heavy gift, just longer than the palm of her hand, and wrapped in cream tissue paper. She tears it gently, letting the heavy hair clip inside, fall into her palm. Pavarti takes it from Hermione’s hand to look at it, as she is preoccupied with the piece of card inside. It reads, “Happy Christmas, Hermione. From your father.”

“It’s beautiful.” Pavarti says, turning the clip in her hand. It is long and wide enough to fit a lot of hair in, perhaps even Hermione’s. The top is adorned with metal inlayed leaves and vines, with small flowers made of burgundy coloured glass. “You have got an admirer,” Pavarti says, handing it back to Hermione.

“No,” Hermione says, turning the piece in her hand and smiling, “It’s from my father, see the card.”

“I thought you spent Christmas with your parents.” Lavender said.

Hermione paused, searching for a lie. “He must have wanted me to have something to open here as well.”

Ron knocked several times on the girl’s door before opening it a little. “Hermione, what’s taking you so long?”

Hermione set down the clip on her bedside table, then she picked up her sweater and walked toward Ron. “Look what your mother sent me.” She beamed.

* * *

 

Hermione was handing her Christmas Break Essay into Professor Snape, when one of the Ravenclaw girls commented on the hair clip, holding much of her hair away from her face, in a neat-ish bundle at the back of her head.

“It’s really pretty Hermione, where did you get it?”

“Thanks, my father got it for me for Christmas.” Hermione smiled.

Severus couldn’t help the grin growing on his lips from that sentence. The only thing that made him happier was later, in his office when he was grading essays and he found at the bottom of Hermione’s essay, in the margins, a small “PS, thank you.”


	4. Discussions in the Dungeons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finally corners Snape to ask some questions

Hermione couldn’t help but notice Snape’s eyes on her, more often than not. He glanced at her during meals, and class. He kept his aggressive, authoritative voice, mind you, but his eyes always seemed to soften when they fell on her, and to linger there longer than the other students.

Her father, step-father that is, was probably right. It seemed he wanted to speak to her. Only he hadn’t had the courage. He was the Slytherin Head after all. Slytherins weren’t known for their courage. But Gryffindors were.

After potions, as all the students were escaping quickly, Hermione stayed behind, telling Harry and Ron that she had a question about the procedure of the potion they just made.

“Be careful,” Ron murmured.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his continued suspicions. She just couldn`t take it all to heart.

“Professor Snape,” Hermione said after everyone had left.

Severus looked up from the potions he was collecting, trying not to grimace at the use of his last name. “Miss Granger. Did you need something?”

Hermione looked around again, making sure the room was empty. “I apologize for not coping with any of this very well. I just wanted to tell you that.”

Smiling for a second, Snape said, “It’s alright, Hermione. It’s to be expected.”

He turned his back to her, so he wouldn’t have to watch her as she left back up the stairs. Only, she didn’t leave.

“I was wondering,” She said, “If you would tell me about you and my mother.”

He turned around slowly. “You what?”

“I want to know what happened between you two, how this all came to be the way it is. I’m curious, but I don’t think my mother wants to retell the story, and I doubt my fa-step-father knows the whole story. I was wondering if you could explain it to me, if it isn’t any trouble. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Your mother and I? I don’t know how much there is to tell.”

“But I don’t know anything about you two, or what happened, and why I’ve never met you before this year, only that my mother didn’t like the idea. Please?”

“Well, I suppose.”

Snape was sweating, leaning up against his desk. Hermione had moved to perch on a stool.

“It happened during the war. I was in my mid twenties, and spending a lot of time in the muggle world, trying to avoid the war. That’s where I met her, in a pub in downtown London. We chatted for a while, over a few pints, then she left and I thought that would be it, like all the other muggles I spent time with. Then a few nights later, we were both back at the same bar, chatting again. We made plans together, and the relationship grew, I suppose.

“We had been casually together for a few months before she stumbled upon me doing magic. She was terrified of course, and fled. I figured that was that, and went back to my routines of drinking in London’s Pubs at night, trying not to think of the war. Then, just a few weeks after the death of You Know Who, I came across an ad in the paper, about the engagement of your mother and that man, I’m sorry, I don’t remember his name. It mentioned her newborn daughter. The ad was only ten months after we had stopped seeing each other, so I jumped to conclusions.

“I went by her house one night, just to talk. I wanted answers. Your mother wouldn’t speak to me, she kept claiming she didn’t know me. I got upset, and I shouted a little. I didn’t mean to, but you woke up in another room and began crying. Your mother rushed off and her fiancé pushed me out the door. I could tell, even if your mother said nothing, that this man knew. He didn’t know perhaps why we had split up, but I could see that he knew I was the father, and that your mother didn’t want me there. She stuck to the argument of not knowing me your whole life.”

Snape sighed. It was odd speaking of this. He hadn’t told anyone this. He hadn’t even told Dumbledore, not even now. He hadn’t wanted to ruin Hermione’s plans to keep it secret, if that was what she wanted.

“Why” Hermione started slowly, “didn’t you do something? Why didn’t you force her to see me?”

“I have no real power in the muggle world. Besides, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to meet me. Even now, I don’t know if I should have introduced myself. You don’t like me, you’re afraid of me.”

Hermione’s throat grew dry, and she looked at her feet. She hadn’t tried to be afraid. She was trying to dismiss the idea that her father was trying to steal the philosopher’s stone. Only, sometimes it came through.

“What did I do wrong?” Snape asked, quietly.

“Why did you attack Harry?” Hermione blurted out.

“Why did I what?”Snape became angered.

“At the first quiddich game, you were bewitching Harry’s broom, trying to knock him off of it.”

“I did nothing of the sort! How dare you...”

“I saw you! You weren’t blinking and you were mumbling and when I put the fire onto your cloak, you panicked and broke eye contact, then Harry was fine!”

“I did not!”

Snape noticed the tears dripping down Hermione’s small face, then noticed that he had been yelling at her.

“I didn’t.” He whispered. “I saw that Harry was being bewitched. I was trying to stop it with a counter curse. I was trying to save the boy.”

“But...” Hermione sniffed, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Please don’t cry.”

“Why would you save him?”

“I was-“ Snape reached out his hand to wipe at Hermione’s tears, but didn’t know what to do and stopped short. “His father saved my life, when we were younger. I was indebted to him.”

Hermione’s sniffles slowed, as she looked up at her father through wet eyes. His hand had fallen away from her, thankfully, though at the same time, regretfully.

“I’m not a brave man. I’m not exceedingly honest either. I’m callous, and angry, and unfair. But I will keep my word, no matter what the cost. I will repay my debt to Potter through that boy.”

Snape looked back down at Hermione who was looking up at him with her big, deep brown eyes. He saw again the resemblances and he nearly smiled. A stray tear was still sliding down her cheek, and he moved his hand silently to intercept it. He was nearly there when the door opened.

“Hermione, are you still down here?” Ron asked.

Snape dropped his hand quickly, but by the look of fear and hatred plastered on the young boy’s face, he had seen it. No doubt he thought something terrible of it as well.

“Hermione,” The boy’s voice cracked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, honestly Ronald, I’m coming.”

Hermione gave one last glance to her father before standing and meeting Ron at the door. When they were a good distance from the dungeons, Ron stopped and grabbed Herimone’s neck, pulling her face toward him. He turned her face and examined her neck, looking for something.

“What are you doing?”

“Where did he hit you?”

“He didn’t hit me!”

“Well, he was gonna.” Ron muttered, dropping his hands from Hermione’s neck and stuffing them in his pockets. “You were crying.”

There was silence, Hermione tried to keep walking, but Ron stayed put.

“Why were you crying, Hermione? Did he do it?”

“It’s stupid.” Hermione flustered.

“What did he do.”

“I-He told me my mark for last week’s paper. It isn’t nearly good enough. I guess between studying for finals, and flitwick telling me my wand position was all wrong this morning, and now this I just...”

Ron started walking slowly, “His hand was raised. He was going to hit you.”

“No, I think I just spooked him. I don’t think he knew how to deal with me. I don’t imagine he’s faced with dealing with many crying girls.”

“There’s still time for lunch.” Ron said, “Let’s go get you some pumpkin juice, and some food.”


	5. First Year Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio have made it out of the third-floor maze relatively unscathed, and Snape confronts Hermione in the hospital wing.

Severus had been upset since Hermione and Harry had been caught wandering the school at night. He had frowned in her direction, each time she caught his eye, and given her an especially low mark on her potions, telling her it was for carelessness. In lue of this, she seemed to get less friendly with him as well. She began frowning back at him, or turning away completely from his gaze.

Hermione could no longer ignore the facts in front of her after the excursion in the forbidden forest. It was one thing to suspect her father of stealing a stone, but to say he was in league with Voldemort. And the facts couldn’t help but clicking in her mind. To make matters worse, when she sent a rather vague letter to her mother, asking about the man, she received a curt response back, telling her to stay away from that dangerous man. She tried to find another solution, but in the end, her fear won over and she began retreating from the man she had really just met. She kept a clear distance from him, and tried to keep him out of her minds, which was hard to do with Harry and Ron constantly talking of it.

She kept trying to think of something she could say to him to get him to stop, get him to think of what he was doing. But if he was really working with You-Know-Who, would there be anything she could do about it? Finally, the night came where Dumbledore left and there was no choice but to go through the trap door. Hermione insisted on coming with, hoping there would be some way, perhaps of stopping Snape. Perhaps if he saw her down there, resisting him, he would think better of what he was doing.

* * *

 

Severus was hysterical with anger, fear, guilt, he didn’t even know what anymore. He was running up the corridors, toward the infirmary, his black robes billowing behind him. He was out of breath, wheezing and near to having a heart attack when he pushed the doors open. The room was empty save for an unconscious Ronald Weasley, and his daughter sitting up in her bed. It was hardly past dawn, and only a few teachers had heard of the events so far, most of which had gone directly up to the third floor with Dumbledore.

“You’re here?” Hermione shuddered, “But I thought you were…”

“What in the name of Merlin did you think you were doing!” Snape shouted over her, stalking to the side of her bed.

Hermione’s eyes widened in fear, which made Snape realize just how loud and looming he was being. He flopped into the chair next to Hermione’s bed, clutching at his still racing heart.

“You’re alright? You’re not hurt? And Weasley?”

“We’re-We’re fine.” She was still gaping at Snape’s presence, expecting him to be through the trap door, being caught by Dumbledore right now.

“I nearly had a heart attack when I heard what you three did. What were you thinking? Going down there to fight Quirrel and…And the teachers are just retrieving Harry now.”

“I-I’m sorry?” Hermione grasped for words.

“You’re eleven, Hermione. Do you realize that? You shouldn’t be involving yourself in dangerous business like this, or trying to solve problems that shouldn’t include you to begin with.”

“I know.” Hermione whispered

“You could have been killed down there. Do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice kept getting softer

“If you ever do something like that again, I don’t know if I could take it. I might actually have a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry.” Hermione was looking at her hands clutching the bedsheets now, hardly audible.

Suddenly, surprising both him and Hermione, Snape moved to the bed and pulled Hermione into a hug, holding her close to his chest.

“Thank God you’re alright.” Snape mumbled into her bushy hair.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and hung to him tightly. He hadn’t been planning anything after all. It was Quirrel that was in league with Voldemort, and who had been defeated. Not her father, it had never been her father. He was still here, he was still her father.

“You should send a letter to your mother saying you’re alright,” Snape said, finally pulling away. “Before she gets any other information and panics as well.”

“You’re going to tell her what happened?” Hermione gasped, hoping her carelessness could stay a secret from her other parents.

“No, not me. Dumbledore will be sending a letter of what took place to each of your parents though. He cannot take such actions taking place at his school so lightly.”

“I’ll write to her and apologize for being foolish too.” Hermione looked down again. “Thank you for worrying about me, and for coming,” Hermione smiled up at Snape, “Dad.”

Severus’ mouth sprouted into a wide, crooked smile. He turned and walked out the door, mumbling, “She’s alright.”


	6. a half memorable birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is back at Hogwarts to start her second year and Snape plans a bit of a birthday surprise

Hermione didn’t see Severus all summer. She supposed it was partly because of her mother. Every time Hermione mentioned her father, her mother would get in a huff, mentioning how much she disliked the man, and how much she disapproved of Hermione spending any time with him. Of course, both of her parents seemed to secretly know that Hermione would, in the end, do exactly what she liked, that was just Hermione’s nature. She still got letters over the summer from her father, which her step father would pass to her under the table at breakfast.

Their letters back and forth never amounted to much. Mostly just wishes for a happy summer. It wasn’t until just after Hermione had received her book list for second year that Severus’ letters moved to something more concrete. He began talking about the upcoming year, and how he hoped he could speak with Hermione a little more, if she so desired of course. Severus swerved around the subject of a public life together, though he had been thinking about it, and settled for being fatherly in closed sessions throughout the months. Hermione agreed with this whole heartedly, so it was decided their first meeting would be September 19, Hermione’s birthday.

And so it was, that after the new semester had begun, and Ron and Harry’s entrance in the flying car was behind them, Hermione found herself sitting on the opposite side of Snape’s desk, in his private study, which was cleared off and set up like a dinner table instead. A house elf brought a small tray with two plates of corned beef, green beans, and potatoes, as well as cutlery, two glasses, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Hermione wasn’t sure what to say to her father, so she just smiled and thanked the house elf, and the man. The air was filled with nervous energy all night. Severus was trying to make idle chit chat, trying to remember what normal twelve year old girls talked about in his classes, which probably wouldn’t have done any good if he had remembered, as Hermione was not a normal twelve year old girl. Instead he stuck to thinks like, “Twelve, huh, that’s a big number.” While in truth, he was thinking, “Twelve years, how did I miss twelve whole years?”

Hermione stuck to the simple statements, like, “Yeah, it’s neat.” And, “Oh, thanks.”

Still, as awkward as it was, it was better than the nothing that both of them had experienced the year before. Severus was just happy to be with her, really. He was sitting in a room with his daughter, capable of speaking to her, not as her teacher, or “that man” her mother hated so much, but as a father, a distant, unhelpful, probably not well liked father, but still.

Hermione wouldn’t put it in her diary as a wonderful night, or one of her more enjoyable birthdays, but she did stay till the very end, when a house elf came back to pick up their plates and set one single piece of chocolate cake in front of Hermione.

“Happy Birthday, Hermione.” Snape said.

Hermione smiled shyly and thanked the house elf again. “But don’t you want some, Pro-um, Dad?” Hermione asked.

     Severus couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear before answering. “No, I’ve never been one for cake. It’s too sweet.”

Once Hermione had finished her cake, and they were back into the same silence as before, though by now a little less awkward, Severus slid a small package out of his cloak and set it down in front of Hermione, not saying a word because he didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Yes I did.” Severus said, “What sort of father would I be if I didn’t.” With that he pushed it toward Hermione, willing her to open the box.

She looked up at him before pulling the brown packing paper off of the box and pulling out a heavy stone mortar and pestle with HJG engraved on the bottom.

Hermione grinned, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, I just heard you complaining in class about yours.”

“No, really, thank you – Dad.” Hermione said, standing up and giving the awkward man a quick hug.


	7. The Polyjuice Potion

Hermione stood on the steps that went down to Snape’s office, frozen with fear. He had told her to stop by any time, for any reason. But all the same, she was terrified of asking him what she planned to ask him. But it needed to be done. She was more terrified to do nothing at all. Draco Malfoy was by far the most likely candidate to be the Heir of Slytherine. He hated muggle borns enough, in fact his whole family did. And they were all filthy rich, with “old money”. If Malfoy really was the heir of Slytherin, Hermione knew she would be the first on his list to be dealt with. Hermione built up all of her courage and knocked.

“Enter,” Snape said. His face was unchanged, though he was surprised to see Hermione standing on the other side of the door. She never really came to visit.

Snape said nothing else, so Hermione spoke up. “I wanted to ask you about something,” She fingered the list in her pocket.

“Of course, sit down.”

Hermione crept to the oversized seat in front of her father’s daunting desk. Snape waited as Hermione stared at him, still fingering the list.

“Is something wrong?” He finally asked.

“No,” Hermione said, “It’s just that I was reading in the library about potions and I was thinking I might try to brew a few on my own, to challenge myself further.”

“That’s quite the initiative.” Snape said, unconvinced.

“Only, I can’t find all of the ingredients. I was wondering if you could help.” Hermione feigned a smile, “I have a list.” Hermione pulled the scrap of parchment from her pocket and handed it over the desk.

Snape looked at it for a moment, then his black eyes turned back up to his daughter. “What do you need polyjuice potion for?”

“Polyjuice?” Hermione stammered.

“Do you think I’m stupid? I know what these ingredients are for. What has Potter gotten you into this time?”

“It wasn’t Harry’s idea...”

“Don’t you remember last year, when he nearly got you killed.” Snape growled.

Hermione shuddered. “It’s not Harry I’m worried about, it’s Malfoy.”

Severus paused, “Draco Malfoy?”

Hermione gave up, “We think he’s the heir of slytherin. I need to make the polyjuice potion so we can prove it before he attacks me and all the other muggle borns.”

“You’re not muggle born, Hermione. You’re half-blood.”

“Malfoy doesn’t know that. He hates me: just last week he called me a mudblood.”

“Hermione,” Severus sighed.

“He’s a terrible, wretched person, and if you don’t help me stop him, I’ll end up just like Filch’s cat, or worse.”

“Draco Malfoy is not the heir of slytherin.”

“He is and I can prove it!”

“He is not, now be reasonable and...”

Hermione stormed out of Snape’s office, nearly in tears. He didn’t care if she was petrified. He didn’t care if she was killed by some terrible monster. He was being entirely unreasonable. If her own father wouldn’t help her, she’d have to get the ingredients herself.

* * *

 

       Hermione was ignoring him again. Severus was trying to understand her. He was trying to stay open minded and calm like a good father should. Really, he was angry, fed up, and a little worried that it was all his fault.

       Accusing Draco Malfoy of being the heir of slytherin was one thing, but entirely disregarding him was something completely different. He knew she had taken the ingredients from his cupboard. He knew Herimione and her little friends were brewing the polyjuice potion somewhere in the school. He should report all of them to Dumbledore, and get them all expelled. He didn’t.

       Severus just didn’t understand her. How could she be worried about the Chamber of Secrets. She wasn’t a muggle born, even if everyone thought so: even if Draco had called her a mudblood.

It was her own fault they all thought so. Hermione still hadn’t told anyone that she was a Snape. It had been over a year, and she hadn’t even mentioned it to her two best friends. If you could call them that. Weasley fought constantly with his Hermione, making her cry or yell time and again. Then there was the boy wonder. Of all the people’s children Hermione could have become friends with, she had to choose Harry Potter. His arrogance and disregard for the rules was always getting him and the other two in trouble.

Still, he shouldn’t have done it. Severus knew as soon as he had opened his mouth, that he had made everything between them worse. But, Harry Potter was being worse than usual, and Hermione was already having problems with Draco and the rest of the Slytherines. On top of that, he had been forced to help Lockhart with the duelling club, and he had been bothering Severus all day.          

When Severus partnered Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode to duel together, she scrunched up her nose and eyes, and stared at Snape. He could nearly feel the hatred radiating off of her. But once it was done, he didn’t have the courage to undo it. His feelings of teaching his daughter a lesson soon turned to guilt as he turned back to the two girls.

Hermione was on the bottom pulling on Millicent’s hair and trying to stop her from punching. He began to move toward them, but Weasley was faster and pulled the slytherin girl off of her first.


	8. Petrified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is petrified and Snape blames himself

Even Draco Malfoy noticed that professor Snape was ornery lately. He was yelling at everyone in class, not just Potter anymore. He had been getting steadily worse all month and no one could escape his wrath. No one, Draco noticed, except for Hermione Granger, which struck him as odd. Beyond odd.

          Snape was still in the castle one morning, despite the quidditch match taking place outside. To be honest, he had never truly liked the game. He was walking out of the great hall after a second helping of french toast, when McGonogall ran past him, nearly knocking him over.

          “What’s happened?” Severus asked her.

          “There’s been another attack.” She said, not stopping to look at him. “I’m getting the students inside.”

          “Do you need any help?”

          “No, no.” Minerva said hastily, walking out the front doors.

          Severus hung a right and made his way to the hospital wing to see for himself what was happening. As he walked through the doors, he first saw a ravenclaw girl, who he couldn’t remember the name of.

          Then, his eyes fell on Hermione.

          His Daughter, his Hermione was petrified.

          Severus left the hospital wing before anyone could notice him. He rushed down the stairs to his office, hiding his face. He locked the door, then leaned over his desk and broke down.

          Nothing made sense. Hermione was a half-blood. Or, a quarter wizarding blood, at least. Why had she been attacked? Sure, everyone thought she was a muggle born, but was that enough? Wouldn’t the monster know what it was sent to kill?

          Fear began to grow in Severus’ chest as he leaned over his desk, crying. He knew who had opened the chamber last time. Was it possible it was him again? The whispers had been traveling through the professors for months.

          Still, to think he could know that Hermione was his, that he who must not be named would go after a child instead of going for Severus himself. And why? Simply because Snape had lied to the dark lord about his daughter? Or was it everything else he had done for Dumbledore? Surely, he couldn’t know everything Severus had been up to since his death, or before it.

          No, it was impossible to think of that. Why should anyone be able to tell who Hermione is? Thank god she hadn’t told anyone.

          “It’s all a mistake.” Severus said to himself, standing up from his desk.

          He wiped his eyes and thought, “Now, keeping her safe: keeping Hermione’s identity safe, is the first priority.”         

* * *

 

          Severus waited until the end of his patrol shift at one am before he saw Hermione again. He crept into the hospital wing and sat in the dark next to her bed. She didn’t look frightened, or confused. Hermione was always so brave, so level headed. He brushed her frozen hand with his.

          “Who’s in here?” Madame Pomfrey whispered. She was standing outside of her office with a small candle.

          Severus stood from out of the shadows and approached her. “Sorry to frighten you, Dumbledore wanted me to check that everything was fine in here.”

          “Oh, Severus, thank you. If you’ll be here for a while, I’ve got some potions I should organize in the back.”

          “That’s not a problem, I’ll stay for an hour or so.”

          Severus waited until Madame Pomfrey had gone back into her office before sitting back down at Hermione’s side and taking her hand once more. 

* * *

 

          Hermione was unpetrified by the feast for the last day of school. She smiled and ran toward Harry and Ron, finally out of the hospital. Of course, Hermione hadn’t been able to tell how long she had been petrified. Once she was revived, it felt like only a moment had passed. But madam pomfrey caught her up on everything that had happened, from Hagrid, to Ginny, to Ron and Harry entering the Chamber of Secrets.

          As she hugged Harry, she looked over his shoulder and smiled at her father. Madam Pomfrey had also told her how Professor Snape had been on patrol duty most nights in the hospital wing.    

          It was already the end of the year and she felt like she had missed everything. She sat through the feast happy to be back, but she couldn’t help thinking that she would soon be back home, away from Hogwarts, and her two best friends, and her father. Ron was going off to Egypt with his family, and there was never much of a chance of seeing Harry throughout the summer. She enjoyed herself as much as she could in the great hall, then followed behind Ron and Harry as they left. She turned on her way out and looked at Snape. He was smiling at her. 

* * *

 

          As the Hogwarts Express got ready to leave, Hermione veered away from Ron and Harry, mumbling something about speaking to Neville. When out of sight, she slunk behind a wall where Snape was waiting.

          “I thought you were going to leave without saying goodbye.” Severus said, pulling Hermione into a hug.

          “Sorry, it took a little to sneak away.”

          “Yes,” the smile fell from Snape’s lips. He was silent for a moment, then said nervously, “What are you doing this summer?”

          “Mom and Dad and I-my step-dad, I mean-we’re going to France for nearly all of the summer. I have cousins there.”

          “Oh. I’ll see you at the beginning of next term then.” Severus faked a smile.

          The train whistle blew.

          “You had better get going.” Severus said. He pulled his daughter in for one more hug before she left.


	9. Third Year Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exactly what it sounds like. I need better chapter titles.

Hermione was sitting in the first potions class of the year, beaming. For once she was having a good start to the year. Her trip to France had been fabulous, and once she got back she had even found a few extra days to see Harry and the Weasleys. Ron was even being relatively civil. Best of all, Professor Dumbledore had found a way to work out her ridiculous request for courses. Hermione was taking everything. Literally. And today, after potions, she would use her time turner for the first time.                     

          Hermione smiled at Professor Snape, and Snape smiled back. Malfoy sat across the room and watched the two of them, baffled. Snape never smiled like that. Even when Draco saw him outside of class, he didn’t. Something was going on.

          Hermione continued making her potion, chatting with Harry and Ron, and ending with a perfect result, which seemed to bother Ron just a little. After class, Hermione approached Professor Snape.

          “Excuse me, Professor. I had a question about today’s potion.”

          Hermione rattled on as the rest of the class filed out. Draco Malfoy left the class room, but hung back behind everyone else to see what was going on. He slid into a shadow in the corner, waiting for Granger to come out.

          Once the classroom was deserted, Severus pulled his daughter into a hug.

          “How was France?”

          “It was fantastic.” Hermione smiled and hugged Snape again. “And I’ve got all the classes I want this year, and everything is great.”

          Severus was glad to see her happy. She was growing up, and get over the little trials of childhood. She hardly cared when Draco teased her now: she was no longer full of spite. Things Severus never had gotten rid of.

          “How was your summer?” Hermione asked.

          “Relaxing and plain. Just the way I like it. Shouldn’t you be getting to your next class?”

          “Oh, I guess I should. It’s the first time I’ve used this.” Hermione pulled the time turner out and held it between her fingers. “Professor Dumbledore said not to tell anyone, but I’m sure the teachers are already aware.”

          “I’ve heard mention of it. But, you shouldn’t show anyone else but myself and Dumbledore. Is that clear?”

          “Oh, alright.” Hermione hugged her dad one more time. “I can see you any time now, though. I can just wind it back and no one will notice I’ve gone.”

          Snape smiled, “That would be nice. Now get to class.”

          Hermione turned the little knob once around, and vanished.

          Draco slouched against the wall, waiting, but Granger never showed. Two minutes to his next class, he gave up and made his way to Transfigurations. As he ran into the class, huffing and puffing, he nearly collapsed at the sight of her. Hermione was sitting next to Harry and Ron already. How had she gotten past him?


	10. The Snoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is getting too nosy for his own good, and as usual, he's got it all wrong.

Severus came back from checking the dungeons. Unfortunately, Sirius Black had already fled from Hogwarts. Severus would have loved to deal with him.

          “I’ve checked the dungeons Headmaster, they’re clear.”

          “I didn’t expect him to linger.”

          Harry’s ears pricked up. Dumbledore and Snape were talking about Black.

          “I’ve warned you before about this, and Lupin...”

          “I won’t hear of it again, Severus. Put the thought out of your mind.”

          “Yes, Headmaster.”

          Snape was up to something. Harry couldn’t really believe Professor Lupin had anything to do with this. He could hear Dumbledore leaving, but Snape continued walking toward Harry. Harry closed his eyes tightly, but Snape stopped just before Harry.

          As Harry’s eyes were clamped tight, Draco continued to watch the strange movements of his mentor. He watched as Snape kneeled over a girl lying behind Potter. Bushy hair: must be Granger.

          Severus leaned down and kissed Hermione on the forehead, “Goodnight,” He whispered.

          Draco waited until he heard Severus leave and close the door, then he lifted up on his elbows. He turned toward the girl he thought was Granger, just to make sure he did see what he thought. There was Granger, still asleep, and next to her was Harry Potter. He was staring right back at Draco Malfoy, and looked even more confused than Draco did.

      

* * *

   

          Within the next few days, Hermione visited Severus for dinner. She first ate dinner with Ron and Harry in the great hall, then she slipped off to the washroom and turned her time turner back one turn. She slipped out of the bathroom and hurried down the hall, making sure to keep out of her other self’s path.

          Unfortunately, she didn’t notice Malfoy coming out of the washroom. Noticing Hermione, he turned, not toward the great hall, but into the shadows to follow Hermione. He snuck from corner to shadow to statue right down to the dungeons, where Hermione snuck into Professor Snape’s study.

          “I was wondering when you’d get here.” Severus smiled.

          “Sorry, I can’t get the timing exactly right yet.”

          “That’s all right. I suppose you’ve already eaten.” Snape laughed. “I guess you’re eating right now, actually. Do you want a drink, though?”

          “All right,”

          Hermione smiled and hugged Snape. Severus leaned down and kissed her cheek.

          Draco ran from his spot at the door to Professor Dumbledore’s office.

* * *

 

          Snape was called up to Dumbledore’s office soon afterward.

          “What is this all about?” Snape asked, looking from Draco to the Professor.

          “Mr. Malfoy came to my office tonight, telling me he had seen you with a student in your office, in what could be a compromising position. Miss Hermione Granger, I believe.”

          Snape tried to swallow his fear.

          “I’d like to speak with you alone Severus. Mr. Malfoy, you are excused.”

          Draco stared at Snape as he left, fear and loathing in his eyes.

          Dumbledore moved behind his desk slowly. Snape stayed standing. “I expected better from you, Severus. Now, I realize why you may not have told anyone else about this, but I expected you to inform me at least.”

          “I can explain.” Severus mumbled.

          “Of course you can. If it were known Hermione was your daughter, she could be in danger. However, I expected you to understand that I would do nothing to hinder her.”

          Severus stood silent, hiding his amazement.

          “I agree, of course that perhaps it would be best to keep Miss Granger’s lineage a secret, especially with Sirius Black about. If the dark lord found you had a daughter, I fear she would be in a grave amount of danger.” Dumbledore stopped to take a sip of his tea. “That being said, it might be best if the two of you do not spend more time together than necessary. Other children will likely become suspicious about the wrong thing, if you catch my meaning. No, I think it best you put some distance between yourself and your daughter for the time being. Especially after the aftermath of what Mr. Malfoy will spread around.

          Hermione received a letter from her father the next morning. She read it in secret, swearing under her breath. Severus had written about Malfoy’s discovery and of the meeting in Dumbledore’s office. He admitted that he agreed with Dumbledore that it would be best if they didn’t spend any time alone. By the time he had began promising to see her during the summer, Hermione had folded the letter up again. How was it that no matter what she was doing, Draco Malfoy always found a way to ruin everything.


	11. Christmas Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malfoy's rumours spread, and Harry's suspicions rise.

Hermione’s life was uneventful up to and throughout Christmas. Apart from Christmas dinner, where she was surrounded by teachers and students alike, she had not seen her dad once. Worse yet, Draco Malfoy had stayed at school for Christmas too. Despite having almost no one to tell, he still managed to spread rumours to everyone present, including the ghosts, of what he had seen. Ron was furious that Malfoy would stoop to such a despicable lie. Harry, on the other hand, seemed a little more worried.

          Late on the night after Christmas dinner, Hermione was sitting in the common room, flipping through the potions book her dad had got her for Christmas. It was full of all sorts of interesting old potions they weren’t taught in class, like a potion which would stop the drinker from getting tongue tied during long speeches. Severus had sent it to her via owl, just to be safe, and it had arrived early that morning, so as to not rouse suspicion as an unaddressed present.

          “What are you doing?” Harry asked.

          Hermione hadn’t even seen him come in. “Just reading.”

          “Potions homework?” Harry sat down next to her, looking at the page.

          “Er, no, I found this book in the library it’s pretty interesting. It has common potions fifty years ago which are no longer used much.”

          “History and potions, right up your alley.” Harry paused, turning a little red. “I wanted to talk to you, or mention rather...” He scratched his head.

          “What is it?”

          “I know Ron and I aren’t always the best at listening, and I suppose you’d probably want to talk to Ginny or something, not us, and maybe not Ron, I guess. He can be a little hot headed,”

          “Spit it out.” Hermione was frowning, guessing at the subject.

          “If there’s anything you need to deal with, or you want me to deal with him or something... if someone’s been doing things, you can always tell me and I’ll take care of it. Okay?”

          “There’s one thing you can take care of. That bloody prat Malfoy spreading filthy lies about me and making people like you believe him.”

          “I don’t believe him! I’d never believe that you would start something like that with a teacher, but if Snape has been harassing you, or...”

          Hermione cut him off with a glare. “I assure you, the only one harassing me is Draco Malfoy. I’d be glad if you dealt with him, but I don’t know where you’re getting all of this other stuff. Professor Snape is exactly that – a professor. I don’t think he takes interest in women his own age, never mind students, and to suggest such a thing with no proof...”

          Harry threw his hand up in objection, then pulled it back quickly.

          “If you are quite done,” Hermione said, “I’ll be going to bed.” She took her book before Harry could answer and left for the girl’s dormitory.

          Harry went up to bed as well. He knew what he had seen on Halloween night, Snape had leaned down and kissed Hermione, now Draco’s story that he had done it again. Yet it was possible Hermione really didn’t know. She was already asleep at Halloween. Besides, Hermione could be downright stubborn when she didn’t want to acknowledge something. Between Hermione refusing to admit to herself that a grown man could be interested in her, and Malfoy more than likely over-exaggerating what he had seen, Hermione could really be oblivious to Snape’s motives. He would just have to be extra watchful over her when the man was around.

          Thankfully, when the student body came back to school, they all sided with Harry that Draco was either exaggerating, or outright lying. The shame and fear for Hermione only lasted a week or two until everyone gave up. Professor Snape was still as mean to Hermione, if not more, and there was no new suspicion that the two had met alone again.


	12. Loch Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spape gets to have Hermione stay over for part of the summer holidays

Hermione was exhilarated by her sneaking around. She was always doing it with Ron and Harry, but this was the first time she was doing it all by herself. Classes were over and the trio was packing back onto the Hogwarts Express. Hermione pulled her trunk behind her and checked again that her dad’s letters were in her jacket pocket.

          Severus had held off seeing his daughter almost all year because Draco Malfoy was still suspicious, and snooping around his office, even if everyone else’s worries had died away. To make up for the time lost, he decided to ask Hermione to visit him for a week at his cottage. They had planned out how to get Hermione away from her friends without notice, and the instructions were tucked into her pocket just in case she needed to check something, though she knew the directions by heart now.

          Hermione couldn’t sit still the whole train ride. Neville and Harry looked at her oddly, though Ron didn’t seem to notice. She had never been to her dad’s cottage before and she couldn’t wait to see what it was like and how he lived on his time off. This was going to turn out to be the best summer ever. On top of visiting her dad for a week, Hermione was also going to see Harry and Ron and all of the Weasleys at the Quidditch World Cup near the end of the summer. That would leave her with about a month in the middle of the summer to see her mom and dad – step dad, that was, and maybe visit some cousins. For once, she’d be able to see everyone she wanted to see in the summer and everything would go off without a hitch.

          Soon the train ride was over and Hermione was hopping off the train with everyone. She hugged Ron and Ginny good bye and waved to Mrs. Weasley who came to pick them up. Neville left soon after, leaving Hermione and Harry alone.

          “Well, bye then. I’ll see you soon, Harry.” Hermione moved to hug him.

          “Where are your parents?”

          “I’m sure they’re around,” Hermione turned toward the pillars her dad was supposed to hide behind.

          “I can help you look.” Harry said, putting his trunk on a trolley.

          “No, no. I think you should go meet your Aunt and Uncle.”

          Harry sunk, “But I don’t want to.”

          Hermione pulled Harry into a hug. “You have to. We’ll see you in no time at the world cup, and I’ll write you all summer. Besides, they’ll be more angry if they have to wait for you.” Hermione said in his lecture voice.

          Harry finally wandered off after another hug and Hermione made her way over to her dad, who was still hiding behind the pillars. Severus grabbed her wrist without saying a word, and they apperated to Loch Cottage.

 

* * *

 

          Hermione was blown back as they entered the fields. The sky was dreary and the wind was howling. Overlooking the loch was a small cottage a little ways up. Behind it, fields rose up into the hills. Hermione followed her dad to the cottage before the rain hit. There was no fence around the property, as there didn’t seem to be any neighbours. At any rate, Hermione couldn’t quite decide where the wilderness ended and the yard began. All was covered in overgrown grass, just beginning to green up. Poppies and thistles tangled between the grasses and wound right up to the base of a large oak tree not far from the house.

          The cottage was a small, double story place, that looked like it used to be a single story, until someone lifted it up and slid a few more rooms underneath of it. It had a shallow grey roof, white washed exterior, and twice as many windows as one would expect, all of which were covered by their storm shingles.

          Severus stopped, drew his wand and flicked it harshly a few times, then drew a large brass key from his pocket. Through the front door, he pulled Hermione’s heavy trunk and beckoned for her to follow before the rain began. Waves were already being whipped up on the surface of the loch.

          The cottage was open, making it seem smaller than it would otherwise. The front door opened directly into the living room, which was attached to the kitchen and the dining room without a wall to separate them. A stair well stood against the back of the room, leading to the second floor. The doors of all three second floor rooms could be seen from the living room, hiding just behind the old banister. There were two more small rooms tucked away below the banister on the first floor.

          Everything was coated in a layer of dust and mildew from the abandoned winter nights. The smell of stale air rose as Severus closed the front door, and Hermione could tell the place had no caretaker as her father was at school.

          “It will be right as rain once it’s opened up and aired out.” Her dad promised, though Hermione kept her doubts.

          Severus waived his wand a few more times to open all the shutters and windows in the house. A small amount of sunlight came through the openings, but it was so dreary outside, there wasn’t much to come through.

          “This is the living and dining room.” Snape said, leaning against the fire place. “Over there is the kitchen. It’s empty now, but I’ll get some things to put in it tomorrow. Down on this level is the bathroom and my office.” He pointed at the doors as he spoke. “Upstairs are the bedrooms. I can show you yours if you’d like.”

          “Yeah.” Hermione said, her arms still folded.

          Her trunk was levitated up the stairs in front of them. Snape opened the furthest door and set the trunk down in the middle of the floor. “It isn’t much.”

          Hermione looked around. The room was small and barren. A single bed was pushed against the furthest wall, under the window. The mattress was bare and old. The hardwood floor was scratched and dusty like everything else. The walls looked like they used to be cheerful when they had been painted, but that was ages ago. The sunshine yellow had cracked in a few places and faded to mustard. Purple and pink butterflies painted then enchanted on the walls to fly around, were now flapping their wings as if out of breath. They avoided one whole section of the wall because of a water stain. The rest of the house looked as if it hadn’t been dusted since Severus had left for the year at Hogwarts, but this room looked like it hadn’t been dusted or cleaned in a decade.

          “I’ll find some spare bedding around the place.” Severus said, cleaning off the dresser. The top was covered in paper clippings and photographs he was now sliding into a large leather bound book. “I suppose you’ll need a few shelves or a book case as well.”

          Hermione smiled half heartedly, but could think of nothing to say.

          Severus tapped his fingers on the leather book he was now clutching to his chest. “I should, should I let you unpack?”

          “Yes, I can do that.” Hermione said. She was standing in the very center of the room, as if trying not to touch anything in it.

          Her father walked out of the room, then turned in the door frame. “Feel free to look around the rest of the house. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

          Hermione surveyed the room. She moved to sit on the bed, looked at the mattress, and sat on her trunk instead. It was a beautiful gesture for her father to leave a whole room devoted to her. But she couldn’t convince herself to focus on how nice it was. The smell of mildew was too strong in the room.

          It was raining lightly outside and a little was coming through the small open window. Despite the wetness, Hermione stood and opened the window further to get more fresh air. This would be much easier if Hermione was allowed to do magic while away from school. She sighed and left the room, deciding to explore the rest of the house.

          Beside her room was her father’s bedroom. It was slightly larger than her own and had a closet, which hers didn’t. The walls were dirty white and the bed was made of dark wood and covered in deep brown fabrics, nearly black. Apart from a shelf full of non-fiction books, the only personal touches were a few picture frames on the bedside table. Two were of a red-headed girl, one as a child standing next to a scraggly bean-pole of a boy and another as a teenager in a portrait. The other frame was a photo of Hermione, the one her parents had taken at Christmas during her first year. All of these were muggle photos.

          The next room was forest green, and the paint looked fresher than the other rooms. Apart from that, it was identical to Hermione’s room. A small bed, stripped of its blankets was against the window and a dresser was near the door. This room was completely bare, save for a few novels balanced on the window sill. It must have been a spare bedroom.

          Hermione’s favourite room by far was the kitchen. It had a huge pantry with shelves floor to ceiling, lined with mason jars full of everything from mouse tails to marjoram to marmalade. At some point her father must have run out of room, because two book shelves were leaning outside of the pantry and were also filled with jars and containers of various sizes. More containers lined the counter tops, intermixed with cauldrons, utensils, and cooking implements Hermione had never seen before. Cast iron pots and copper kettles and pans hung from the ceiling, over the old wood stove. Severus was right that there was no actual food in the house, not a grain of rice or leaf of produce to be seen, but Hermione couldn’t imagine where he would put the food with so many jars of spices and preserves.

          Everything in the house was in cluttered organization, from the overstuffed, alphabetised book shelves to the wood pile under the coffee table. Hermione’s fear began to bloom into wonder and excitement of the place. Once Severus had magically cleaned away all of the cobwebs and polished the wood floors, she couldn’t find one thing she would change about the house.


	13. The Godson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Severus get an unexpected visitor at the cottage and things don't go so swimmingly.

After collecting groceries and having a very late lunch the next day, both Hermione and Severus sat in the living room with a good book each. Hermione was at the age where she had just discovered an enjoyment for novels filled with new philosophies instead of happy endings. Her father was working through several news papers, both wizard and muggle.

Suddenly, green flames sprang from the fire place and a sooty, blonde boy in jeans and a tee shirt stepped out.

“Draco?” Severus stood up.

“You can’t make me go back there. I’m running away and...” Draco’s eyes fell on Granger sitting next to Professor Snape on the couch. “What’s that thing doing here?” He pointed to Hermione.

Hermione stood up and shouted, “What am I doing here? You’re the one who doesn’t belong.”

“Everyone, calm down.” Snape said, but neither teenager was listening to him.

Insults were thrown back and forth, ending with Draco screaming “you slut!” Hermione ran crying up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Snape grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck. “What were you thinking?”

“What am I thinking?” Draco spat, “You have a student in your house! You’re disgusting!”

Snape snarled and threw Draco to the couch. “Hermione is my daughter!” He folded his arms and his eyes narrowed to slits.

Draco’s eyes flitted from Snape’s angry face to the mantel piece. Draco’s picture had been replaced by one of a bushy-haired young girl of seven. Draco’s smirk turned to a frown as he ran up the stairs. He entered the green bedroom - his room - and slammed the door behind him. He laid down on the bare mattress. Snape hadn’t even expected him to come. He hadn’t left Draco a blanket or a sheet. Draco listened to Snape stomp up the stairs and enter Hermione’s room. He could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation since Snape’s bedroom was between them.

“He’s my godson,” Snape said. “Sometimes he stops by, but I didn’t know...”

Sometimes, ha. Draco had been spending time at Snape’s cottage since he was four. Sometimes the whole family came down. Sometimes Draco just had to escape.

“I want to call my mom and go home!” Hermione wailed.

“Sweet heart,”

“I’m not staying in a house with that thing!”

Draco listened to Hermione crying for a while.

“I’ll bring you home tomorrow.” Snape said.

“No, I want mom and dad to pick me up.” Hermione began to cry again.

“I’ll call your step-dad.”

Draco listened to the door close and heard Snape walk back down the stairs. He didn’t come into his room to say anything. Granger was still crying in her bedroom. Draco tried to block it out, but couldn’t. It was odd to hear noises in the house. It had always just been Snape and Draco when he stayed over. Hermione’s room had always been shut up and silent. Even during the last two years, when Snape had been more agitated than usual, any fights they had resulted in Draco going to his room and Snape going to is study downstairs. It was unnerving having someone in a bedroom near his. Could she hear him too?

At some point, Draco must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to Snape entering the room. He still looked angry, but he set a set of sheets on the dresser, then passed Draco a sandwich.

“What time is it?” Draco sat up.

“Nine.” Severus sat next to him on the bed.

Draco took a bite of the sandwich. “You could have told me.”

“No.”

“I’m your godson! Before she came, you trusted me, and you invited me into your house. You used to care about me!”

“I thought you of all people would understand, Draco.” Snape muttered.

“There’s nothing to understand.” Draco laid back down and turned away from Severus.

“You hate being your father’s son. You’re running away from it right now. Hermione has a chance to grow up away from all of that. How can I not want her to have that?” Snape stood up and moved toward the door. “And you will always be welcome in my house, so long as you don’t upset my daughter, and you promise to keep her away from my and your father’s world. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re capable of either of those.” Snape walked out and left the door open.

Draco finished eating his sandwich, then got up to close the door. Hermione walked past his bedroom door, wiping at her eyes.

“You filthy mudblood.” He muttered.

Hermione turned on him. “I’ve never been a muggle-born. You on the other hand will always be a selfish ass hole!”

Draco slammed his door shut, and laid back on his bed.

* * *

 

In the morning, Hermione was packing up the last of her trunk in her bedroom. She had cleaned the room quite nicely already, and had been looking forward to spending more time at the cottage, but not while Malfoy was there. She put the last of her clothes into her trunk and closed it. Snape said he’d call Hermione’s mother after breakfast.

Hermione looked up to find Malfoy leaning in the door frame.

“I’ll go home.” Draco said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“What?”

“You stay here. I’ll go home.”

 Draco shuffled out of the door frame and down the stairs. Hermione watched as he grabbed a pinch of flue powder and left in a curtain of green flames.


	14. After the First Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione have a nearly-civil moment with each other by the lake.

Draco Malfoy stood on the edge of the black lake. Crabbe and Goyle had left him for the day to gorge themselves on sweets. Draco threw another stone into the lake and watched as the ripples spread out then disappeared.

          He watched as Hermione Granger walked along the edge of the lake toward him. Draco threw another stone into the lake. Hermione made it to Draco and stood behind him for a moment. Draco grimaced and threw another rock in. Finally, he turned.

          “What do you want, you stupid little...girl.”

          Hermione brushed her bushy hair back from her eyes. “I wanted to make sure we were clear that you aren’t going to speak to anyone about this summer.” Hermione mumbled.

          “Snape’s already talked to me, alright.” Draco fumed, turning back to the lake.

          Hermione sat down on the rocky shore.

          “What are you waiting for? Leave!” Draco crossed his arms, trying to ignore her.

          “I wanted to ask you a question.” Hermione mumbled.

          There it was. Draco growled and shifted on his feet. It was always the same with people from the other houses. Are you really evil? Are you really a death eater? I heard your father killed all sorts of people. They can all bugger off.

          “Did my dad ever talk about me when you were little?” Hermione asked, looking at the horizon instead of Malfoy.

          Malfoy turned to her, blank confusion on his face.

          “You stayed with him a lot, when you were a kid, I mean. He said he’s your godfather.” Hermione fidgeted in the silence. “It’s just, he’s been avoiding me again this year, and sometimes I wonder...”

          “He never spoke about you.” Malfoy murmured.

          Hermione wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the ground.

          Draco sat down a few feet away, facing the lake. “When I was a kid, your room was off limits. One night, when I was seven or eight, Snape said he was going out for a walk. I don’t know where he went, but he always apperated somewhere else on nights like that. I was curious, and I figured he’d be gone for a few hours, so I slipped into your room.

          “Everything was musty and gross. It looked like the room hadn’t been touched in years, but I’d seen Snape go in there almost every week. There was a crib in the corner that looked like it had never been used, and all of the fabric was moth eaten and covered in cobwebs. There was a rickety wooden chair next to the dresser and spread all across the dresser and the floor and hanging on the walls were all sorts of pictures and news paper clippings. Some looked like they were muggle-made. A bunch of the photos were too blurry to make much out, other than a house, or a street. There were a few baby photos.

          “Then I heard Snape returning, so I ran out of your room. Before I could get back to my room, he grabbed me around the collar and started swearing at me and shaking me. He eventually let me go and I ran back to my room. All that night, I couldn’t sleep. He was wailing and moaning and mumbling from your room. I’d never seen him like that before. I haven’t since either.

          “The next morning, your bedroom door was locked and stayed that way until this summer. Snape pretended like nothing had happened.” Draco leaned back on his hands. Both teens looked at the black lake instead of each other. “I always figured he’d had a wife and a baby that had died in the war. It was pretty common amongst our...at that time. So I didn’t say anything to him or anyone else about it.”

          Draco grew quiet at the end of his story. Hermione didn’t say anything for a long time.

          “I didn’t even know who he was until I got to Hogwarts. I grew up like any other girl.”

          Draco had grown contemplative. He sat holding his knees to his chest and hating it. “That’s why you’ll always be a mud blood.” He suddenly said.

          “Shut up, Malfoy!” Hermione stood up, kicked dirt at Malfoy, then left.

          Draco stretched out on the cold ground once Hermione had left. He still didn’t feel better.


	15. The Yule Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a fiasco from all sides about Krum, and then some father-daughter sweetness at the dance

Severus walks past store fronts and peers into the windows. As it isn’t a Hogsmead weekend, the streets are empty. He stands in front of a dress shop looking at the clothes on a mannequin through the window. Pulling out Hermione’s mother’s letter, he moves his finger down the list. “Size nine. Floor length. Must have sleeves. NO PINK.” Hermione had nothing nice enough to wear to the Yule Ball at home. It was decided between Snape and her mother that she might as well get dress robes from the wizarding world. This is why Snape is now walking into a woman’s dress robe shop, armed with a list of requirements to surprise Hermione with. In the shop, Snape walks once around the mannequin, feels the silky material between his coarse fingers, then walks to the front counter.

          “The blue dress. Size nine.”

          The woman stares at Severus for a moment before fetching the dress and wrapping it.

          He returns to the castle and places the package on the desk in his office. Hermione had received an owl last night to stop by her dad’s office. As usual, Hermione arrived perfectly on time as Snape finished making a pot of tea.

          “You wanted to see me.” Hermione said.

          “Your mother sent me a letter last week. She got me to pick this up.”

          Severus handed his daughter the package. Hermione’s face turned from worry to joy as she unwrapped the dress and held it up to herself.

          “It’s perfect.” She said, hugging Snape.

          “What a wonderful family portrait.” Draco sneered from the doorway.

          “What are you doing here, ferret?” Hermoine quickly wrapped up the dress before the ferret noticed, but she wasn’t quick enough.

          “What’s that you’ve got there? Must be as big as a tent to fit over you.”

          “Why are you even here?” Hermione said.

          “Now, now, why don’t you two try to get along?” Snape tried to get between the two teens.

          “I’m here for extra potions lessons. At least Snape wants me here. You probably barged in uninvited. Daddy issues, have we.”

          “At least I don’t need extra potions lessons.” Hermione spat.

          “Now Draco,” Snape reached to put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I invited Hermione to come here, but you’re early and I assumed we’d be done by the time you came.”

          “At least I have a real date for the ball.” Draco said, ignoring Snape entirely.

          “I have a date, if you must know.”

          “Weaselbee broke down and asked you? I didn’t think he’d have the guts.”

          Hermione was on the verge of tears. Snape tried to block Draco’s path from her.

          “Leave her relationship with Weasley alone, Draco.”  

          “Hell, I didn’t think you’d have the stupidity to say yes. But I suppose when you’ve got no other choice.”

          “Draco, I’m telling you to leave her alone!” Snape raised his voice.

          “Viktor Krum has asked me, I’ll have you know!” Hermione shouted, then ran past both of them into the hall.

          She slammed the door shut and leaned against the hallway, wiping her eyes with one hand and holding her new dress in the other. Snape followed her out, and hugged her to his chest.

          “Sweet heart, you shouldn’t have said that. Lying will only set him off more.”

          “Why do you think I lied? Because he could never like a girl like me? I’m not good enough?”

          “Hermione, you’re actually going with...with Krum...” Severus took a step back.

          “Is there something wrong with that?”

          “Of course there is! He’s seventeen. He has a beard, for Christ sake.”

          “Dad, it’s just a dance.”

          Snape sighed.

          “I was just happy someone asked me.” Hermione wiped at her eyes again. “Ron never did.”

          “I’m sorry.” Snape hugged her one more time. She went upstairs to her dormitory and Snape went back into his office.

          “I don’t know why you two have to say such things all the time.”

          “She’s everything I hate! I can’t help it.” Draco spat.

          “She was when you thought she was muggleborn.”

          “She’s my mortal enemy.”

          “Harry Potter is. Besides,” Snape laughed, “If either of you really hated each other, you’d do a lot more than just taunt each other.”

 

* * *

 

          Severus skulked around the entrance hall as students early for the ball piled in, dolled up and giggling. He waited at the door for the visiting students who were following Igor Kakaroff up the lawn. Victor Krum followed behind him and stood next to Snape when they stopped.

          “Igor, good to see you.” Snape said, “And Krum, I hear you’re taking a young Hogwarts girl to the ball tonight.”

          “Yes, professor.”

          “I hope you will treat her hospitably. Teachers here take their student’s welfare quite seriously.”

          Victor blinked.

          “Severus, what are you doing here?”

          “I’ve been sent to lead you into the great hall.” Snape cocked a fake smile, glaring sideways at Krum.

          He turned quickly and walked through the huge wooden doors. He spotted Potter and Weasley, both looking perplexed by their dates. He frowned to see Hermione wasn’t with them.

          Draco was skulking by the stairs and smiled at Snape when their eyes met. Draco laughed with several slytherines about some of the worst dressed people, especially the weasel in his ruffles. Draco also noticed Hermione wasn’t with the golden trio. He thought back to their argument in the dungeons and frowned. Maybe he had struck a deeper wound than he had thought. She wasn’t going to go at all now.

          The triwizard competitors were gathering near the doors to the hall, where Snape waited to open them. Hermione made her way down the stairway and Snape smiled at her. She smiled back and waved.

          Snape turned to make sure Kakaroff didn’t see the movement. He didn’t need a deatheater knowing she was his daughter. Instead, he saw Krum gawking like an idiot and waving at his little girl. The dolt.

          Draco noticed Hermione coming down in her periwinkle dress too. Good. At least now he didn’t have to feel guilt about making her miss it, and he wouldn’t have to apologize later to Snape.

          Hermione strolled across to Viktor Krum and took his arm to enter the great hall. Draco’s jaw dropped. Severus’ clenched in anger. 

* * *

 

          After the dance, Viktor was dragged away by Kakaroff to get up for morning training. Hermione was left sulking on the staircase where Ron left them after their fight. Why was it that everyone thought Viktor was too old for her?

          Hermione sighed, taking off her shoes, she stood and walked barefoot out into the courtyard. She heard her father’s voice behind the shrubs and cheered up as she headed toward him, then heard another voice –Kakaroff’s- and quickly hid behind the shrubs.

          “You know what it means as well as I, Severus. What are we going to do about it?” Igor whispered.

          “What you do is none of my business. We aren’t together in this.”

          “We will always be together in this, Severus. Even you are still...”

          “Quiet.” Snape hissed.

          “You’re frightened.” Igor said. “After all this time. You sound like you’re protecting something. Someone.”

          “You’re imagining things.” He knows something, Severus thought.

          “There have been rumours. Perhaps Snape isn’t as alone as we thought.” Igor laughed.

          “I’m not frightened. I tell you to hold your tongue out here, where anyone could be listening. Don’t you think?” Snape said coldly.

          There were rumours. How could there be when Snape had been so careful. Only Draco and Dumbledore knew, and Dumbledore didn’t tell anyone anything. Draco was trained in occlumency, and even he wasn’t cruel enough to tell someone. Igor snarled and walked away. Snape breathed a sigh of relief. This is why he needed to keep Hermione protected, no matter what. No one could know she was really his daughter, or she would be dragged into the same mess he was now stuck in.

          Hermione heard Kakaroff leave and waited a moment before stepping out from behind the bush. Snape stepped back in surprise.

          “You scared me, Hermione. What are you doing still out? Nearly everyone has gone to bed.”

          “I know. I was going to go, I just wasn’t tired yet.”

          He patted her on the shoulder. “Was it a good Yule ball?”

          “It was okay.” She shrugged.

          “I thought you were excited about tonight. Did Krum do anything?”

          “No, he was fine. It’s just, Ron and I had a bit of a fight.”

          Severus sighed. “I never thought I’d say this, but I would rather you had gone with Weasley tonight. I would worry about you less.”

          “I wish I had gone with him too.” Hermione sighed. “Why are boys always so stupid?"

          “It’s just in their nature, sweet heart.”

          “Do you think he’ll ever get a clue?”

          “No. But you’ll get used to it.”Snape smiled. “Everything will look better tomorrow.”

          He looked at the fairy lights in the trees that were all beginning to give up and fly off on their own. The band could still be heard playing through the open doors to the hall, although only a few couples and a teacher or two were up dancing. Hermione yawned and stepped back into her shoes.

          “How would you like one last dance for your father, then off to bed.”

          “I’d like that,” Hermione said as she reached for her dad’s hands. She wished he had been there for all her sad moments when she was growing up. He could have swung her about underneath the stars then carried her off to bed. Maybe she wouldn’t have felt like such a loner sometimes. “I’m glad you’re here,” She said.


	16. Summer Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a deal must be reached if both Draco and Hermione want to spend time at the cottage this summer, and it turns out surprisingly enjoyable

Draco hoisted himself onto the tabletop Hermione was already leaning against. It was the last potions class of the year and Snape had asked both of them to stay after class.

          “Move over, Malfoy.” Hermione pushed his legs, which were brushing up against his crossed arms.

          He swung his feet sideways and kicked her. “Make me.”

          She pushed him harder and he began to move. She starting pushing him off the desk, him scratching at the tabletop like a cat.

          “Stop it, you great ox.”

          “Maybe if you had some muscle on your scrawny bones,” Hermione giggles.

          “Ahem.” Snape cleared his throat. Somehow he had appeared at the front of the classroom, despite no one being able to apperate inside of Hogwarts.

          “Hi dad.”

          Hermione stopped and went back to leaning against the table. Draco went back to kicking her lightly.

          “I asked you both here to talk about the arrangements this summer.” Snape said, “I know we talked after last summer, and decided we’d split the time, so you could both have one month at the cottage alone, but things have...come up. I’m only going to be able to stay at the cottage for three weeks.”

          “Great, I can’t come again.” Draco said. He hopped down from the desk and made to leave.

          “Draco, I didn’t say that.”

          “You were going to! You always pick her over me. The daddy’s girl. The perfect little princess of Hogwarts. She gets everything she wants.”

          “That’s not true. You’re the diva, Malfoy!”

          “Quiet!” Snape raised his voice, and just like in class, the room went silent. “I’m going to be at the cottage for the first three weeks of the summer. I was going to suggest that both of you put aside your squabbling and your arguing, and we all stay there together. Of course it’s up to you two. If you’re not able to be adults, you can both come for a week and a half each.”

          “It will all depend on Granger.” Draco smirked, “She’s the one who starts the arguments.”

          “Then it’s settled, because I am perfectly capable of being an adult.” Hermione smiled and picked up her bag. “Are you?”

 

          Hermione traveled to Loch Cottage after the Hogwarts Express ride with Severus again. Draco came by the floo network the next day with his father. Hermione was already upstairs hiding in her bedroom for their arrival.

          “Lucius, it’s wonderful to see you.”

          “Likewise, Severus.”

          “Are you going to be staying for dinner?”

          “No, Narcissa has the cooks working on a lovely duck for tonight.”

          Draco snuck up the staircase as the adults chattered on. He pulled his duffle into his bedroom and began unpacking. Severus had already laid out linen at the end of the bed and Draco began making his bed. He heard the bed squeak down the hall and got up to see.

          Hermione was laying on her already made bed, reading.

          “Are you going to study all summer?” Draco said, entering her bedroom and closing the door.

          “I’m not studying, Ferret, I’m just reading.” Hermione sat up and put the book down.

          “For fun, you are a strange thing, aren’t you? Locking yourself inside all summer for some rotting old books.”

          “Actually, Dad was going to teach me to sail tomorrow.”

          “You don’t know how to sail?” Draco laughed.

          “First you’re making fun of me for being literate, now because I didn’t grow up with my own private loch to sail in.” Hermione giggled, “You really are losing your touch.”

          “Am not.” Draco made his way over to the bookshelf and smudged his fingers over all of the spines. There were about a dozen books, mostly novels, stacks on the middle shelf. “You brought all of these with you?”

          “No, most of them are Dad’s. He let me keep some of my favorites up here.”

          “The Wizard of Oz? Sounds like a load of rubbish.”

          “Of course it is, it’s a fairy tale. Honestly, what do you read?”

          “Not much, except the post. What are you reading there?”

          “The Lord of the Rings. It’s a fabulous book, a bit silly sometimes, especially Gandalf. But it makes a lot more sense than the post does lately.”

          “Draco!” Mr. Malfoy called up the stairs, “come and say good-bye, would you.”

          Draco let his fingers slide from the bookshelf. Hermione smiled at him as he turned to leave.

 

          Hermione spent all of the next day on the loch with Severus. He hauled out a wooden boat, sixteen feet long, the mast and keel, and a tattered old sail he kept in the shed behind the house. Hermione mended the sail with her wand then her dad showed her a spell to paint and varnish the boat. When everything had a new, shiny coat of white, they pulled it down to the water’s edge, leaving Draco up at the house alone. It was all for the better that he didn’t want to tag along, as all three would be cramped in the little vessel. It turned out to be a perfect day for sailing, the sun coming up early to warm the air, but leaving a little wind to fill the sail. Severus, despite his whole life in the magical world, still held that it felt wrong doing some things by magic. Writing personal letters with magic quills for one, sailing for another. He taught Hermione to sail the muggle way, the way he had first taught himself when he baught the cottage for a bit of peace.

          The water splashed on their faces as they pulled on the ropes, leaned in and out, and slowly steered around the lake. Hermione sucked in the new vocabulary as she did with everything and watched carefully how her father moved his hands, tied the knots, what he watched for. She copied him completely and by lunchtime, she was able to handle the sail herself as Severus steered lazily. The day became more overcast and he could comfortably look up at the birds in the sky without squinting. They were mostly seagulls, seeming to be moving further inland, away from the grey clouds mounting closer to the ocean.

          “We had better get in,” Severus said, “Storms come quickly around here.”

          He was right, by the time they got back to shore, they had both felt a few sprinkles of rain, and by the time they had gotten everything back into the shed, the downpour had already begun.                              

         

          Inside, Draco had made his way through the entire kitchen, a pot of stew simmering away on the wood stove, and a stack of dishes enchanted to wash themselves in the sink. He was sitting at the kitchen table when Severus and Hermione walked in, reading and helping himself to a platter of meats, cheeses, pickles, and sliced bread he had drummed up for lunch.

          “What, no freshly baked pie?” Severus said, opening up the oven.

          “I’m taking a break,” Draco said, eyes not raising from the daily prophet, “Besides, you hate pies.”

          “You hate pies?” Hermione looked to her father.  
          “You have anything else to read? I’m almost done the paper.”

          “You could start studying up for next year,” Snape sat on the table and grabbed a crust of bread.

          “You’ve got to be joking.”

          “How can you not like pie?” Hermione sat as well.

          “You could use the studying, your grades were falling all of last year.” Snape collected an assortment of food onto a napkin.

          “What’s wrong with pie?” Hermione said.

          “I’m just not a fan of sweets,” Severus smiled and stood. “If it’s going to rain, I really should get some work done.” He stood and kissed Hermione on the forehead. “We should go for a hike tomorrow, all three of us.

          “Okay.” Hermione smiled as Snape walked into his office.

          Draco went back to the paper as Hermione munched on the platter of food. She stood and walked around the kitchen. The pantries had been filled with food the night before, and now there were two freshly baked loaves of bread on the counter, one sliced and half-eaten. Draco had also made and eaten lunch while she had sailed, and also begun cooking dinner. She picked up the spoon beside the pot and took a taste of the stew.

          “Don’t ruin my stew.” Draco said from the table.

          “You did all of this this morning?”

          “What else was I supposed to do?”

          Hermione moved back to the table. “Relax, have fun, you’re on vacation.”

          “I like to cook.” Draco shrugged, “I never get to do it at home.”

          “You’re crazy.” Hermione took more cheese and pickles. She hadn’t had lunch yet.

          “How can you not like cooking, you’re a girl?”

          “And now you’re being sexist.”

          “Fine, you don’t get any of my stew.”

          Draco crossed his arms and scowled. Hermione started to giggle, and soon both of them were laughing. They fell silent after a while and listened to the rain blowing against the windows. The stew simmered on the stove. The fire crackled beneath it. The dishes splashed away in the sink. Eventually, Draco folded up the daily prophet and slid it into the middle of the table.

          “You can read it if you want, I’m done.”

          “Thanks.” Hermione took it toward her. “Do you want to read one of my books?”

          “What have you got?”

          Hermione chewed on her lips and her eyes glazed over, a look Draco recognised from whenever she was searching inside her own memory. Her face looked vacant, like she had slipped into a pensive, transported to some giant library in her own mind, full of everything she had ever known. Somewhere in there was the answer. She must have found the book it was in, because she suddenly came alive, jumped up, and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. She came back down after a moment and slammed a thick tome in front of Draco.

          “The Fellowship of the Ring, I mentioned it yesterday. It’s a trilogy and I’m re-reading the second one right now, but here’s the first one.”

          Draco looked down at the still picture on the paper cover. “This is a muggle book.”

            “There are wizards in it, if that makes you feel better.” Hermione sat back down. “Just give it a try. The first one was always my favorite.”  
            Draco sighed and flipped to the first page, having nothing better to do on the rainy day.


	17. The Last Days of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco get along much better than either of them would ever admit.

Snape dropped the mail in Draco’s lap, who was snoozing on the couch in the living room. He came to and flipped through the mail, pulling out a letter for him and the news paper. Sitting up, he began to laugh.

          “Hey, Hermione!” He called. “Your boyfriend wrote you a letter.”

          Hermione ran into the living room. Draco jumped to his feet and held the letter above his head.

          “It seems pretty thick, it must be serious.”

          “Draco, give it to me!” She jumped, but couldn’t reach.

          “I think I should read it first, it might be too inappropriate for you to read.”

          “Come on, Ron never writes me letters.” Hermione said, “And besides, he’s not my boyfriend.”

          “Oh.” Draco dropped his arms and started to laugh. “It’s not from Weasley.”

          Hermione snatched it and read the address. It was a thick letter written on thick parchment. Her name was written in pointed black letters, smudged in places from the long journey. It had traveled all the way from Bulgaria where Viktor Krum had sent it from. Hermione’s brow furrowed as she sat down and opened the envelope.

          “Why is that boy writing you?” Her father leaned over her shoulder. “How did he even get your address here?”

          “I gave it to him.” Hermione said.

          “What?”

          “I told him I was at my Grandparents, just like I told Ron and Harry. You were fine with that.”

          “Ron Weasley isn’t an eighteen year old superstar. He isn’t trying to whisk you off to god knows where with him, under god knows what intentions.”

          “Dad, you’re over reacting.”

          “You just make sure Viktor Krum stays in Bulgaria.” Snape left and barricaded himself into his office.

          Hermione opened the letter – several pages worth –and began to read. She ignored Draco as he giggled away on the chair across from her. Viktor apologised for not writing sooner, and for the length of this letter. Both were because he had been on a tour with the Quidditch team so far, and hadn’t found time to write a proper letter until he had returned home. At page three, Draco moved beside her, to try to read over her shoulder. She angled the pages away from him and continued.

          From page three to four, Viktor described in detail his life since the last moment he had seen Hermione, mostly full of quidditch and after parties, all his victories and accomplishments. On page five, he started on how much he had missed Hermione so far. He started out decently, acknowledging her age and the physical distance between them. Draco had caught a few words by now, and was laughing and repeating them like he was reciting Shakespeare. By page six, Viktor had gotten philosophical, talking about how he could wait for eternity for her, how their souls were connected by a magic more ancient than civilization. On page seven it finally happened. Viktor asked her to visit him, if only for a little while. He would be in Ireland at the end of the month for a quidditch match. She could come and watch him for the match, or if she wished, she could meet him there and stay with him for the rest of the European tour. The quidditch season would end before she began school again, and it would be perfect. All she had to do was say yes, and he would arrange everything, from transportation to a special box seat reserved for the player’s loved ones. She would have anything she wanted.

          Hermione set the letter down and rubbed her temples. She would never understand boys. On one end was Ron, ignoring everything she felt for him no matter what she said or did. On the other end was Viktor Krum writing letters like this, despite the fact that she had specifically told him she wanted nothing more than friendship. Somewhere in the middle was Draco Malfoy being his usual insensitive self, having a full blown fit of laughter by now at her discomfort.

          “Would you shut up already!”

          “But there’s nothing else to do but make fun of you.” Draco leans back and looks out the window, where the rain is still splattering hard. “Let’s play wizard’s chess.”

          “I hate wizard’s chess.” Hermione gets up and collects some parchment and a quill from the side table.

          “Exploding snap?”

          “Not today. I’ve got to write a letter to Ron and one to Harry, then I’ve got to call my mom without dad around so they don’t have another row.”

          “You’re so boring!” Draco slinks off to the kitchen for food, shouting at Hermione as he goes. “What am I supposed to do then?”

          “Why don’t you read your letter?”

          “It’s from my parents. Dad will have written half a page tops, and mom will have written four or five pages about the garden and the servants and the weather, and ‘do remember to thank Severus ever so much for having you over’.”

          Draco comes back to the living room with a roast beef sandwich and begins to eat.

          “Read something else then.”

          Draco swallows and pulls a face. Hermione looks up from the letter she’s writing. Draco looks away from her gaze.

          “What?”

          “I didn’t bring anything to read.”

          Hermione raises her eyebrows and smirks, something she has picked up in the last few weeks.

          “Hermione!”

          “I want to hear you say it.”

          “Can I borrow one of your books?” Draco folds his arms and slouches.

          “Why of course, Draco, I’d be happy to share one of my stupid, musty old books with you.” She gets up and walks up the stairs.

          “You really are getting more unbearable by the day, you know.” Draco shouts up the stairs.

          Hermione comes back with her copy of The Fellowship of the Ring and tosses it to Draco. Hermione goes back to writing. She finishes Ron’s letter and moves onto Harry’s as Draco reads in silence. She is halfway through Harry’s, Snape has gotten up to get some lunch and brought Hermione a sandwich too. She puts the letter aside as she eats.

          “This is actually pretty good. I guess I’ll have to find my own copy somewhere, since you’re leaving tomorrow.”

          “You can borrow the book until school starts, then just give it back to me then.”

          “Really, you wouldn’t mind?”

          “No, so long as you don’t destroy it.”

          “Thanks,” Draco grinned and Hermione smiled back at him. “What are you going to do when you get home?”

          “Oh, I’m not going home, I’m going to stay with Ron.”

          Hermione would be leaving for Grimuald place the following evening. To avoid suspicion on all sides, Severus decided to wait until the next afternoon before he went to join the order of the pheonix.

          “Like hell he’s not your boyfriend.”

          “It’s not like that,” Hermione said with a mouthful of sandwich. “Don’t you ever stay at your friends’ over summer?”

          “Does that mean potter’s going to be there too?”

          “Well, no,”

          “Ha! It’s a relationship.”

          “Harry’s not there for completely different reasons.”

          “Right.”

          Hermione went back to writing her letters and she thought Draco had gone back to reading quietly. Then he looked up from the book and smirked.

          “Does that mean you’re going to tell Weasley you’re eloping with Viktor Krum?”

          “Draco!”


	18. Snape's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Grimuald Place, Hermione tries to celebrate her father's birthday without arousing anyone else's suspicions.

“Ronald, I’m going to kill you!”

          Ron ran out of the kitchen of Grimuald Place laughing, stuffing a Yorkshire pudding into his mouth.

          “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” He mutters to Harry as they pass in the hall.

          In the kitchen, Hermione had dishes spread across the counters. The ancient stove was filled with boiling pots, mashed potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, and roast beef in the oven. Hermione was swearing under her breath as she tried to make gravy.

          “What are you doing?” Harry asked as he entered the kitchen.

          “What does it look like? I’m making dinner.”

          “You don’t cook.”

          Hermione glared and went back to mixing the gravy, which looked like motor oil.

          “You need some help? I used to make Christmas dinner for my Aunt and Uncle.” Harry happily takes over the gravy. “What’s the occasion?”

          “There’s no occasion. I just thought it would be nice.”

          “Oh.”

* * *

 

          The order of the phoenix sat down at the long wooden table. Hermione laid down the sliced roast in front of Severus Snape and gave him a wide smile. The corners of his mouth peaked up ever so slightly. The dinner went splendidly, everyone finished off the last of the food, Ron and Fred even eating the more burnt parts of the roast. Everyone cleared off afterwards, except Hermione who went to the sink and did a charm to start cleaning dishes, and Snape, who slowly finished the last of his plate. Hermione listened to hear the last person walk up the stairs, before turning from the sink.

          “Happy Birthday.” She smiled and sat next to her dad.

          “You’re too good to me, you didn’t have to do all this.”

          “You hate cake and you refused to tell me what you wanted for a present. I had to do something.”

          Severus hugged Hermione to him. “I’m far too old to be celebrating my birthday, sweetheart, but thank you.”

          “When I’m your age, I’ll still expect presents.” Hermione laughs.

          “And you’ll have them too.”

          “Did you enjoy yourself at least?” Hermione leans on his shoulder.

          “It was a wonderful change. Thank you.”

          “It wasn’t as good as the pot roast Draco made.”

          “It was a lovely dinner. Speaking of Draco.” Severus reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I snagged this off an owl at dawn today.”

          He laid the envelope on the table and Hermione picked it up. It was a small thing, easy to hide, with discreet green lettering, saying only “Hermione Granger”.

          “I assumed it was from him.” Snape said. “I must say, the quantity of letters you receive from strange boys is a little unnerving.”

          “Dad.”

          Snape pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for tonight.”

          Hermione pulled back and smiled. “Any time.”

          The door creaked as Harry entered. “Oh,” He stopped awkwardly, seeing Hermione stand so close to the professor. “I thought I’d help you finish the dishes.”

          “Thanks, Harry, but they’re done.” Hermione smiled and rushed out of the room.

          Harry and Snape locked eyes for a moment, before Harry turned and went back up the stairs. Hermione had already shut herself in her and Ginny’s room, so Harry went to his and Ron’s and sat on the bed.

          “Something wrong, Mate?” Ron looked up from the paper he was reading.

          Harry scratched his chin and debated bringing it up. “Have you noticed Hermione acting weird lately?”

          “No, why?”

          “Well, she was in the kitchen with Snape, and she was being nice to him.”

          “He’s probably her next project.”

          “What?”

          “First it’s freeing the house elves, then land for centaurs, rights for giants, now friends for Snape. Seems a proper order to me.” Ron went back to the daily prophet.

          “Maybe you’re right.”

 

          Hermione checked that Ginny was still playing exploding snap in Fred and George’s room, then went to her shared room and locked the door. She ripped open the letter with excitement. It was not addressed and there was no signature at the bottom, but it was all written in emerald ink, and she just knew it was him. It was short, but more than she had ever expected from him.

          “The rest of my summer has turned out to be a bore. Sometimes being an only child seems like the stupidest thing a parent could do. I guess you’d agree, if you weren’t at your lover’s. Have you told him about your fiancé yet? The book is pretty good. But are the elves supposed to be like house elves? Cause that makes no sense. Tell your dad I said Happy Birthday if you’re sending him a letter, or using that contraption you call a cellular. I’d do it myself, but I’m not quite sure where he’s ended up. I’m not sure where you ended up either, but my owl’s pretty good at solving mysteries. Your dad’s too sneaky for even the best owls, though. See you in September. P.S. Use a common owl if you write me back. Or don’t reply, I don’t care.”

          “What are you doing in there?” Ginny called from the other side of the door.

          Hermione shoved the letter back into its envelope and shoved it into her jumper pocket. She jumped up and unlocked the door.

          “Sorry, I -uh- I got a letter from Viktor, and I didn’t want any of the boys seeing me with it.”

          “Oh, you have to tell me about it!”

          “Right, but first I’ve got to head to the bathroom.”

          Hermione ran off down the hall, tucking the envelope further into her pocket. She turned into the bathroom, where Harry was brushing his teeth.

          “I was hoping to see you,” Harry said, splattering tooth paste a bit.

          “Oh, um...”

          “What was with you and professor Snape earlier? In the kitchen.”

          “That? I was just –um- saying Happy Birthday. Cause it’s his birthday.”

          Harry spat into the sink. “You know when his birthday is?”

          “I know when all of the professors’ birthdays are.”

          “Of course you do. But still, Hermione...”

          “Everyone deserves a bit of happiness on their birthdays, Harry. Besides, he is part of the order.”

          “That doesn’t mean we have to be nice to him.”

          “You don’t really think he’s that bad do you? I mean, Dumbledore trusts him.”

          “You can’t be serious.”


	19. The End of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still don't have better chapter names. Oh well. father-daughter time, and Harry gets suspicious.

“My summer has turned out much the same as yours.” Hermione wrote in scarlet. “Perhaps if he were really my lover, he might listen to a single word I said. Talking to the floorboards is more appealing. The only thing worse is reading my fiancé’s letters, he wrote me again and it was worse than the first. I’d like to believe it’s because English is his second language, but I’m not so sure. Speaking of reading, elves are tall, pointy eared hippies who do magic and are usually gorgeous. Legolas, my god! Why can’t he be my fiancé? Dad says he’s doing fine and says thanks for the Birthday wishes. All the best till September.”

          Hermione tucked her quill into her pocket and folded up the parchment. Her dad was making his way across the field and she didn’t want him to see it. She was sitting on a bench in a park near the house, needing a bit of fresh air and exercise after so many weeks stuffed in a house with so many people. The only think more nerve wracking than Harry’s doom and gloom and constantly wondering about her and Snape were the twins’ hijinks now that they were legally allowed to do magic. Hermione watched and wondered if Snape had always walked so slowly. He always seemed to swoop in like a great black bird when they were misbehaving, but when she was waiting for him he looked slow. He looked like he was getting old. He looked so out of place in his muggle clothes, corduroys, loafers, and a polo shirt. Hermione couldn’t help but giggle as he approached.

          “Dad, we need to get you a new wardrobe?”

          He sat down on the bench next to her. “Corduroys are comfortable. I’ve been thinking of getting a black pair to wear to classes.”

          Hermione put her hand to her mouth, laughing out loud.

          “You said you wanted to talk to me. Is everything alright?”

          “Oh, it’s just something Harry said to me.” Hermione said, sitting up straight.

          Snape turned to her seriously. His eyes grazed over her like they always did when he was worried, looking for physical marks.

          “Nothing’s wrong dad, it’s just...after your birthday, Harry was talking to me, and he didn’t understand why I cared if it was your birthday. I just thought, well, maybe it would be nice if they knew you were my dad.”

          Snape turned his face away from her.

          “I know I was the one who originally wanted to keep it quiet and I’m sorry for that, but I’m ready for people to know now. I want people to know you’re my Dad.” Hermione smiled.

          “No.”

          Her face fell. “What do you-“

          “You’re not to tell anyone, do you understand? There’s too many damned people who know already.”

          “You don’t want people to know...to know about me?” Hermione looked away. Her eyes were beginning to water.

          “You’re a smart girl, Hermione. Now that He’s back, who do you think He’ll go after first? Harry, Dumbledore, The Order, anyone who’s posing a threat. That’s me.”

          “But we’ll be fine. We’re safe at Hogwarts, and Grimuald Place.” Hermione wiped at her tears.

          “He’s sadistic, he goes after people’s weaknesses, their families. And he always gets them in the end. It’s safer for both of us if it looks like I haven’t got anything he could use for leverage.”

          Hermione sniffled and wiped at her eyes, “But, Dad...”

          He held her chin and wiped her tears away from her chin. “If they ever took you from me...” His jaw clenched and he looked into Hermione’s eyes. Severus’ darker brown eyes filled with tears, but none of them ever fell. “I can’t do that again.”

          Hermione’s eyes dropped and she wiped her nose. “Do you think you’re in that much danger?”

          “No. No more than anyone else. I’m just worrying, but you let me do that. You should be having fun before vacation ends.” He faked a smile and the tears were gone as quickly as they had come. “What do you say I treat you to an ice cream before we head back?”

          The two stand up and make their way out of the park. “Do you like ice cream?” Hermione asks.

          “I’ve been known to have a bowl of pistachio every once in a while.”

          “That’s gross.” Hermione laughs and wipes away the last of her tears.

          “Diagon Alley has a flobble nut flavour which is close, but it just isn’t the same as the muggle stuff.

         

* * *

 

          Severus holds the door open and lets Hermione enter Grimuald place first. Harry watches from the top of the stairs as she walks up to him.

          “Were you out somewhere with Snape?”

  
          “No, I was at the park for a bit. We just got back to the house at the same time.”

          “Where was he?”

          “How should I know?” Hermione huffed.

          They went into Harry and Ron’s room, where Ron was lounging on the bed.

          “He’s up to something, I’m telling you!” Harry said.

          “Who’s up to something?” Ron sat up.

          “Snape. He just left the house mysteriously and no one knows where he went.”

          “Probably reporting on us to the death eaters, I expect.” Ron said.

          “Stop it, both of you!” Hermione said, folding her arms over her chest. “How long have you thought that Snape was up to something?”

          “We always think he’s up to something.” Ron shrugged.

          “And how many times have you been wrong about him, hm?” Hermione stared at both boys, “That’s right, all of them!”

          “Fine, where do you think he was sneaking off to today then?” Harry asked.

          “The grocery store, the news stand, the doctor’s office, the bank, he could have a million completely innocent errands to run.”

          “In a muggle town?” Ron scoffed.

          “He grew up in the muggle world!” Hermione said.

          “How do you know that?” Harry said, pointing his finger in her face.

          “He reads the New York Times, he uses the telephone, he wears corduroys for merlin’s sake. Honestly, sometimes I think I’m the only one around here with eyeballs!” Hermione crossed to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to go mail a letter.”

          “Who are you writing to?” Ron asked.

          “Viktor Krum!” Hermione left and slammed the door shut behind her.

          “What’s her problem?” Ron asked.


	20. Back at Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at Hogwarts, Draco and Hermione find time to bond over secret letters

Hermione entered the fifth year girl’s dormitory to find her trunk sitting at the end of her four poster bed, and a small brown owl sitting on her trunk. She grabbed the letter, sat on her bed and pulled the blinds on her four poster bed shut.

          _I’ve finished the book and have nothing left to read. I blame you. Do you have the second book?_

Hermione laughed at his lack of tact. She sat up, shooed the owl off the top of her trunk and dug. Finally, she found amongst her other books, the second book of Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings. She set it on the bed and scribbled on the back of the note.

          _I’ll leave it tomorrow after potions class._

She tied the note to the impatient owl then ran back downstairs to meet up with Ron and Harry.    

* * *

 

          Draco sat impatiently through their potions lesson. He was always amazed that Snape could be so strict. He gave them a four page essay on the first day back, even to his own house, even to his own daughter. Finally, the class was over and everyone rushed away from the dungeons as fast as they could. Hermione doddled a little, putting books into her bag. As she did, she dropped one out that slid under her desk. She pretended not to notice, then caught up to Ron waiting at the doorway. She smiled at Draco as she passed him.

          Draco stood at his desk until her and Weasley were gone, then made his way to her desk. Snape turned around, surprised to see someone still there.

          “Can I help you with anything, Draco?”

          “No.” Draco said, leaning down and retrieving the book.

          “What are you two up to?” Snape said, grabbing the book before Draco could slip it into his pack. He was surprised to find it was something as innocent as a novel, a muggle one at that.

          “She just leant it to me.” Draco turned red and pulled it away.

          Snape let it slip from his fingers and crossed his arms. “Don’t do anything that will require me to have a stern talk with you.” Snape raised his eyebrows. “Either as a professor or a parent.”

 

          Draco closed the curtains on his bed after dinner. He pulled Hermione’s book from under his pillow and laid down with it. The jacket of his transfiguration textbook fit perfectly around the book, to disguise it from the other Slytherins. He cracked it open to chapter one, feeling the worn pages against his fingers, the smell of old books. After a moment, he grabbed a scrap of parchment, jotted a quick note and ran to the owlry to snatch an owl.

          _Thanks a ton. I’ll get the first book back to you soon. Maybe next week at the same time. Don’t worry, I didn’t dog ear any of the corners._

          He ran back to his dormitory and by the time he got there, the owl had already flown through the window and landed on his bed, holding a note back.

         

          _It’s no rush to me. What was he saying to you after class today, he looked upset._

          _Dad stuff, I guess. He’s worried you’ll find yourself another fiancé. No big deal._

_Speak for yourself. I’ll have to go down tomorrow and explain everything. About all three of you!_

_Calm down. I already told him he’s got it wrong. Well, at least about me, I’m not so sure about the other two._

_This owl looks on death’s door. We’d best stop for tonight. If you’re going to continue bothering me, we’ll have to find a better way about it. Good night._

_Alright, sleep tight._

Draco sent the owl off for the last time. It tottered and swayed through the air, clearly overworked after such a long vacation. Draco settled back into his bed and read for a little while before sleep.

* * *

 

          The next morning, Draco found Blaise in their dormitory for a solution that had come to him in the wee hours of the morning. He remembered a little artifact they had used in their first few years of classes to pass notes, which had made its way around the slytherin common room. He hadn’t seen any in quite some time, but was sure Blaise still had some kicking about. He was such a pack rat.

          “Have you still got any of that note parchment left? Remember, back in second and third year.”

          “I think so,” Blaise jumped off his bed and went to his trunk. “What do you need it for?”

          “McGonagall’s been cracking down in transfigurations. I figured this would throw her for a loop for a bit.”

          Blaise found the parchment and brought it to Draco. “Well you can try, but that old bat knows all the old tricks. It probably won’t work.”

          “Well, thanks anyway.” Draco took the parchment anyway and put it into his own chest.

          Some Slytherin sixth year had made the stuff when Draco was younger, using a series of simple enough spells, then making huge quantities of the stuff and selling it off to the younger Slytherins. The parchment was enchanted to pass notes without being noticed. Whatever one person wrote would be transferred onto the other pages magically attached to it. In this case, one for him and one for Hermione. If you tapped your wand, the notes would disappear and only be revealed when the same wand tapped on it again. Also, the enchantment binding the two pages together was impossible to trace. So, even if Hermione’s was found by any of her friends, no one would know she was talking to Draco.         

* * *

 

          The following week, he slipped her piece of parchment into Hermione’s first Lord of the Rings book and brought it to potions class. He dropped it and kicked it under his desk before Blaise joined him and could see it. After class, Hermione again spent her time packing up before grabbing the book from under Draco’s desk. Snape watched on, raising his eyebrows only slightly as Hermione shoved the book in her enormous bag and made her way to her magical runes class alone.

          As they discussed the chapter Hermione had finished re-reading two weeks prior, she got bored and her eyes began to wander. They fell onto the novel which had a piece of parchment sticking out of it. She pulled it out and unfolded it, but it was blank. Giving up, Hermione threw the parchment onto her desk and went back to writing notes. She ran out of parchment a few minutes later and reached for the blank parchment but it was no longer blank.

          _I’m in History of Magic and it’s awful. Why is Binns even allowed to teach?_

Hermione looked around but no one was watching her, so she took up her quill again.

          _I’m trying to pay attention._ She wrote the words underneath his.

After a moment, new words in Draco’s handwriting materialized under her own. _Goody two shoes._

* * *

 

          Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room, attempting to study astrology, but frankly, just too tired for it. She looked over her shoulder. Neville was frustrated over his transfiguration homework and Pavarti was sleeping in one of the arm chairs. Hermione pulled out her note parchment and started scribbling to Draco.

          _“I’m going mad trying to study Astrology. What are you doing?”_

          She pretended to go back to her studying, but really stared impatiently at the parchment until Draco wrote back.

          _“Could be worse. I’m trying to do dark arts homework. Umbridge is a joke. I think I’ll just give up and go back to reading The Two Towers.”_

          _“I gave up on that homework a long time ago. Just Astrology now.”_

          _“Aren’t you supposed to be good at everything?”_

          Hermione didn’t hear the portrait to the common room open.

          _“I know it’s surprising, but I have a hard time with Astrology. I’m not failing or anything, but still.”_

          _“I’m pretty good at Astrology. We could get together some night and I could help you.”_

          Harry snuck up on Hermione and loomed over her shoulder. “Hermione, I wanted to talk to you about your plan to start teaching people defense against the dark arts.”

          Hermione jumped. She tried to shove the parchment under her text book, but Harry grabbed the corner before she could and pulled it out.

          “What are you doing?”

          “Nothing,” Hermione flushed.

          Harry sat down next to her with the parchment, frowning. “You’ve been acting weird, Hermione. I’m getting worried about you.”

          “I’m just writing notes to a friend of mine, that’s all, Harry.”

          Harry furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the sheet, showing the conversation she had been having.

          “What, can’t I have friends other than you and Ron?”

          “Of course you can, I just didn’t know you did.” Harry flushed. “What’s her name.”

          “Actually, he’s a boy. But you wouldn’t know him, he’s in Ravenclaw.” Hermione reached out to grab the parchment but Harry pulled it back.

          “This is what you’ve been hiding? Honestly Hermione, you had me worried, why couldn’t you just tell us?”

          Ron entered the common room then, striding toward Harry and Hermione. “What are you two up to then?”

          Harry looked down and re-read the last line this boy had written, _“We could get together some night and I could help you.”_ “Oh.” Harry muttered, looking up at Ron. He shoved the parchment back into Hermione’s hands.

          “Is that your Astrology homework, Hermione? Mind if I take a look?” Ron reached for the parchment.

          Hermione pulled it to her chest and stood up. “It’s a letter to my Mom. I’ll go put it away then I’ll come down and help you with homework, alright?”

          “Sure.”

          Hermione ran up the stairs, turning crimson. Ron sat in her spot next to Harry.

          “Have you noticed she’s been acting weird lately?”

          “Girl stuff, probably.” Harry muttered.

          Ron scratched the back of his neck. “Right.”


	21. An Astronomy Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a study date with Draco and more comes out of it than either one expected.

          Hermione snuck out of the dormitories while Ron was off at the bathroom. She slid past Harry who was only pretending to study for her sake.

          “Are we going to meet this boy you’re going out with?”

          “It’s not a date, Harry. He’s helping me study.” She slid her astronomy book into her bag and when she was at the porthole she turned back, “And no, you can’t meet him.”

          “Fine.”

* * *

          Draco was already laying in the grass when Hermione arrived. She nearly tripped over him in the darkness. She laid down beside him without a word, stretched out on her back and looked up at the stars.

          “How terrible at this are you?” Draco said after a time.

          “I’m not terrible, I’m just not great.” Hermione reached down to pick up her textbook.

          “Leave it,” Draco said, “Just tell me what you can see right now.”

          “Well, there’s ursa major,” Hermione said, pointing up at the constellations, “Orion, Cassiopeia.”

          Draco began pointing to things as well. “What’s that one?” He pointed to a great Y in the sky.

          “Which one?”

          “Here,” he shifted so Hermione’s head was next to his, inches away. Then he held up his pointed finger above both their eyes and traced the shape.

          “That’s Taurus.”

          “And Taurus follows which constellations in its rotation?”

          “Aries is before and after comes uhh...”

          Again, Draco lifted his hand and traced the twins.

          “Oh, Gemini.”

          Right, so the sky is rotating which way through the year?”

          “That way?” Hermione circled her finger in the air, smiling as Draco nodded.

          “What star is that?” Draco pointed to the end of Taurus.

          “Trick question, that’s the crab nebula.”

          “Oh, you found me out.” Draco joked. “Can you see anything else.”

          “Mercury is supposed to be out soon, but I can’t find it.” Hermione tried to reach for her book again, but Draco held her hand back.

          “You won’t have your book on the test, only a telescope. How else can you find it?”

          “Well, its red and small. It’s not always there, it will move positions faster than stars, so we can chart it through the weeks.”

          “Not much good on a one hour test.”

          “I’m trying to remember what I read.” Hermione said. “It’s near the horizon, in the direction where the moon rose.” Hermione pointed into the distance. “Is it that one?”

          Draco took her hand in his and shifted it slightly downward. “It’s the dimmer one.”

          Hermione turned to look at him, his pale face so close to hers, hardly lit in the moonlight. He dropped her hand and turned slightly toward her. “What else do you see?”

          “You.”

          Draco continued to stare at her. Her hair was wet from the dew on the grass, and sufficiently flattened by the weight of the moisture. Her cheeks bulged as she smiled toothily at him. Whatever she had done last year to straighten and shrink her teeth had done wonders.

          “You’re right there.”

          Hermione took Draco’s hand in hers now and pointed it to the sky. She traced out the shape of the great dragon. Hermoine began to laugh. Draco looked up at his constellation then back at Hermione. He wrapped his long white fingers in and held Hermione’s fingers in his. She turned to him and he leaned in, pressing his thin lips to hers.

* * *

 

          Hermione returned to the common room with a smile plastered on her lips. Draco had faltered back, said it was too late and they shouldn’t be out. He had got up to leave, but still waited for Hermione so they could walk back to the castle together. They walked in silence, but Hermione could see the blush creeping up on Draco’s pale skin. He didn’t say goodbye when they got to the castle, just headed off toward the dungeons, as Hermione started up the stairs. Her own smile didn’t turn into a blush until she entered the common room to find Harry and Ron playing a game of wizard’s chess. Ron was playing embarrassingly badly and a rose hue was creeping up his neck and cheeks, all the way to his ears. Just like it had crept up Draco after he kissed her. Then Hermione began to turn red too. She tried to rush past the two boys without notice, but Harry grabbed her arm.

          “How was studying?” Harry asked.

          “Fine. It went fine.”

          “You’re back faster than I expected you to be.”

          “When Harry said you were at the library, I figured you’d be gone all night.” Ron said.

          Hermione glanced up at him and blushed more, but he was staring at the chess board and chewing on his pink lip. Hermione couldn’t help but notice.

          “Well, I ran into a problem I couldn’t really deal with there, so I figured I’d just come back.”

          Harry turned a worried face to her. “Is everything alright?”

          She couldn’t stop the awkward smile from creeping back onto her lips. “I’m fine.” She could still feel the dew sticking to her hair, her lips tingling from the pressure of draco's mouth.


	22. Hermione's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione spends a birthday afternoon with her dad, while trying to keep it hidden from the boys.

          Harry walked into Honeydukes, hoping to stockpile some sweets on the first Hogsmead trip of the year. He came around an isle to the caramel balls and ran into Ron instead. Both boys stared at each other in surprise.

          “I thought you were with Hermione?” Harry said.

          “She told me she was spending the day with you.”

          “Why would we spend the day together without you?” Harry asked.

          “Well, we wouldn’t either, me and her.” Ron stuttered.

          “But where is she then?”     

* * *

 

          Hermione was sitting in the hog’s head, with a large mug of butter beer and a club sandwich in front of her. It was the Saturday after her fifteenth birthday, and her dad was taking her out for a special luncheon. They’d already spent the whole morning together. They snuck out of the castle and took the scenic walk down to Hogsmead early in the morning. They talked about school, whether Hermione wanted to be a healer, an auror, or an apothecary, and what was going on between her and Draco.

          “Honestly, Dad, it’s nothing.”

          “Right, I forgot you have a crush on the Weasley boy.”

          Hermione gave a groan.

          “Just because you like him, doesn’t mean I have to like him,” Snape said. “In fact, it usually means the exact opposite as that.”

          They walked along a stream and Hermione balanced on the rocks as Snape walked beside, hands stuffed into his corduroy pockets. They made it to the Hogshead just in time for lunch. Snape had reserved the whole place for the two of them, not much of a feat since it was so small, and since it was usually completely empty. The food was far worse than that in the three broomsticks, but it was worth it to have somewhere quiet to sit, neither of them having to fear being seen by students or teachers.

          Afterwards, Hermione ate a slice of cake and Snape slid a present wrapped in newspaper across the table. She pulled the paper off of it, a heavy hardcover book, old leather wrapping around the binding.   

          “I thought you’d like it.” Severus said, “It’s sort of the wizard version of a fantasy novel. It’s a lot like the lord of the rings.”

          “I’ve never heard of it.” Hermione flipped to the title page.

          “It’s a wizard novel. Wizards write fiction too, you know.”

          “Thanks.”

* * *

 

          Hermione made sure to slip back into the griffindor common room before anyone else was back from hogsmead, she ran upstairs, put her new book away, slipped into her pyjamas, slid under her covers, and got ready to write her mom a letter. Her magic parchment she shared with Draco was wrapped up with her blank parchment and she looked at it, but Draco hadn’t written anything to her in three days, since he kissed her. She was hoping he’d at least say happy birthday to her, but maybe he didn’t know it was her birthday. She slid this parchment away and picked up a blank piece and her one ball-point pen. No matter how long she went on in Hogwarts, she always preferred using a regular pen. She used a quill for everything in the wizarding world, but she loved it when she could write things for the muggle world and use a normal old pen.

          _Hi Mom and Dad_ , Hermione Wrote. _Thank you for the birthday card and the gift. I’ve had a good day so far. My father took me out for lunch as it was a hogsmead weekend, and I have considerably less homework this weekend than last. The weather here is beginning to get cold already, and I suppose it will be an early winter. How are things there? Crookshanks misses his muggle cat food a lot, I guess the stuff here isn’t as good. I’ve been good though, apart from one thing that has been bothering me. I wanted to ask Mom, and I wish I could do this at least on the phone, but I was wondering, have you ever liked two boys at the same time? I don’t want you to worry or anything, as I’m sure nothing will happen with either of them. I’m not really ready for anything serious like that, but I’d feel a lot better if I knew which to choose, or at least that it was normal. If you’ve got any advice, I’d appreciate it. And please don’t tell my father if you happen to talk to him. He’d just worry._

_Love, Hermione._

          Hermione heard people moving about downstairs in the common room finally. She slipped the letter into an envelope and sealed it. She laid it on her bedside table then picked up a tiny box of Fred and George’s skiving snackboxes, she dug around until she found a little blue gum drop and tore a tiny corner off of it. She found that if you used just the tiniest amount, you broke out in a cold sweat and turned a little green, but it didn’t really affect how you felt. A moment later, she heard the boys running up the stairs. There was a loud knock at the door followed by Ron’s tentative voice, “Hermoine, er, you in there?”

          “Yes.” Hermione called.

          “Are you, um, alone?”

          “You can come in, Ron.”

          Ron opened the door to the girl’s dormitory and walked in, followed closely by Harry.

          “We were wondering where you’d got to.”

          “I wasn’t feeling very well so I stayed in bed. Sorry I didn’t come down and tell you before you left.”

          “That’s alright,” Ron said. They were still standing a few feet from her bed. “Wait here a second,” Ron said, running out of the girls’ dormitory and heading toward his own room.

          Harry looked back to make sure Ron was gone, “Were you really here all day?”

          “Yes, I told you I was sick.”

          “I just thought, maybe you were out with that boy again.”

          “No, I haven’t seen him again.” Hermione frowned, “To be honest, I don’t think he’d want to be seen with me in public.”

          “Why, what’s wrong with him?” Harry asked, “Is he way older than you or something?”

          “Something like that.” Hermione said.

          Ron came back into the dormitory with something in his hand. The other two stopped talking. Ron came to the head of Hermione’s bed and handed over the tiny slip of paper.

          “Happy birthday, and all that.” Ron said.

          It was a blank slip of paper from the library with Professor Binns’ signature at the bottom. It was the slip you needed filled out in order to check out a book from the restricted section, but this one was blank apart from the signature.

          “I tricked him into signing it when he was on one of his rants last week. That way, next time you want to sneak something out you can just fill out the rest of it.” Ron said, smiling.

          “Ronald, you’re not supposed to do that.” Hermione said.

          “Fine, I’ll just take it back then if you don’t want it.”

          “No, that’s alright.” Hermione tucked it in with her spare parchment.

          “Oh, I got you something too.” Harry pulled out a bag of mixed sweets from Hogsmead, and a bottle of butter beer. “Seeing as you missed going this weekend. Happy birthday.”

          “Thank you,” Hermione said, “Thanks to both of you.”

          “I guess we should let you get some rest.” Ron said. “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital wing?”

          “No, it’s just a stomach bug. I’m sure I’ll be fine by dinner.”


	23. A Secret Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finally learns the truth, and is sworn to keep a secret much bigger than he ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Major spoilers from book seven involving Snape's past are in this chapter, in case you haven't read book seven yet. You really should get on that, though.

          Hermione hadn’t spoken to Draco in person since the kiss. He had written to her a few times on their paper, but he never mentioned it again, only talked about classes and homework, ordinary things. She was too afraid to mention meeting again. Her mother had written back to her telling her to follow her heart. What was that supposed to even mean?

          She had tried to get closer to Ron if she couldn’t to Draco, maybe that would help her choose. But as always, Ron was slippery. One moment they were getting along, getting closer, the next moment he was a smarmy git, infuriating her to no end. So she tried to get closer to Draco, but she only saw him normally in potions class, where Harry, Ron, and her father were all watching her. She caught him in the supply cupboard one day, he passed her the jar of bat wings, smiled at her, his hand grazed hers. Then Snape was at the door scowling, telling them to hurry up. She almost got ahold of him after class, had almost slipped past Ron and Harry, but then Severus was grasping at Draco’s shoulder, asking him to stay later after class. So she smiled at them both, and turned to find Harry staring back at her, waiting at the door. She turned and followed him out to the great hall for lunch.

          Snape stood and held Draco back as the rest of the students filed out. Finally, they were alone. Snape let go of him and took a step back.

          “Do you remember the first conversation we ever had about her?” Snape asked. “I told you I would protect her under any costs, even from you.”

          “What are you talking about?”

          “I know that look you keep giving her. The way she glances back at you in classes. You two are becoming friends, and I’m thrilled with that, but I won’t allow it to become more. I’ll protect her from you.”

          “She’s not a baby, she can make her own decisions.” Draco spat back.

          “I am her father and I will not allow her to be involved with a boy like you.”

          “Haven’t you ever had a heart, Severus? Who cares if I’m a Slytherin and she’s a Gryffindor, if we love each other? I could make her so much happier than Potter ever could, or that stupid Weasel, or any of them!”

          The colour drained from Severus’ face as he stared back at himself, fifteen years old again, pissed off at the whole damned world for everything. Hadn’t he said the exact same thing a million times? Didn’t he, even now, think it just a little? He’d have kept her safe, kept her alive, loved her better. Always.

          “You love her?”

          “I don’t know,” Draco shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets, “maybe, I guess.”

          Is this how her father would have treated him, if he had ever gotten the courage to ask? And wouldn’t he have deserved it?

          “And what will she do? Help serve tea and biscuits to your father’s friends? Sit worrying by the fireplace while you’re off with a mission, creating mayhem? Or will you disown all of them, never speak with your father, break your mother’s heart?”

          “We don’t know what’s going to happen with any of this.”

          “I know a damned sight more than you, boy.”

          Draco was fuming now, his brow wrinkled, his fists balled, his eyes were watering, but his father had taught him long ago not to spill his tears. “You talk about her like she’s a china doll, like you can just put her in a glass case, like that will keep her safe. You put her into more danger than I ever could. If you’re so worried about her being pulled into this mess, why are you still sticking around? She doesn’t even know what you are, what you’ve done.” Draco turned away, tried to leave the room, but Snape grabbed his shoulder. “She knows what my family is and she still cares about me,” Draco spat out. “If she knew all the things her precious father has done, would she even speak to you?” With that, he tore his arm away from the man and stormed out of the room.

* * *

 

       Hermione didn’t see Draco or Snape until that night at dinner. Draco walked right past her and she tried to give him a smile, had thought that he saw her, but he skirted around her and made his way to the slytherin table. When she turned back, Severus was glaring at her from the professor’s table. That look he only gave her when she was going to get a serious lecture from him later. Which is exactly what happened. Hermione left dinner early and headed on her way to the library for a bit of studying, but Snape caught her on the way.

          He walked directly past her without a word and entered a deserted classroom. She followed him in, having no idea what she had done wrong, but feeling the usual fear of a parent’s scorn, followed him in and shut the door. Hermione stood with her back pressed against the wall and waited for Snape to turn around and look at her. He didn’t seem as angry as she thought he might be, he only seemed worried.

          After a pause, he said, “I spoke to Draco this afternoon.”

          Hermione stared back at him. What had Draco told him? Certainly not everything, certainly not the kiss.

          “To be honest, Hermione, I’m worried about you spending so much time together. I’m not sure he’s exactly what you think he is.”

          “But, he’s your god son.”

          “I realize this is partly my fault, I did bring the two of you closer together and I did want you to be civil to one another.”

          “That’s what we did.”

          “I’m just worried that he is rubbing off on you the wrong way.”

          “What do you mean?”

          “His family, his friends, they’re the sort of people I don’t want you associating with.”

          “But you’re his godfather, don’t you associate with them too?”

          “That’s different, I’m helping Professor Dumbledor, you know that. I haven’t got a choice about who I associate with.”

          “And Draco doesn’t have a choice who his family is. Mom and you, you both keep teaching to be polite and respectful and give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but neither of you can do that. If his father wasn’t Lucius, would there be anything else you didn’t like about him?”

          Snape heaved a breath and leaned against the desk top behind him. “You’re growing up so fast. I don’t want you to get hurt, but I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that you don’t need me to protect you.”

          She stepped up and hugged his thin frame. “I still like it when you try.” He folded her in the wings of his cloak and held her there for a long time.

          “I don’t care what your mother says, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Snape kissed her on the top of her head and flattened out her curls, frizzy from the hug.

          The door creaked as it opened an inch and Snape looked into the dark classroom. He had closed the door. He walked to the door, peered down the hallway, scanned the room quickly. No one was there. He could hear no sound either. Hermione must have left the door ajar then the wind picked up.

          “What is it?” Hermione asked.

          “Nothing, I thought I heard something. It’s getting late anyway, you should be getting to bed.”

          “Alright.” Hermione leaned up and kissed her dad on the cheek as he held the door open for her. “Goodnight. And don’t worry, I’m fine.”

          “I’ll try.” He checked the hallway once again, then hugged Hermione to him. She was even growing taller. Soon she wouldn’t be his little girl at all. “I love you.” He said, almost a whisper.

          “I love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow in potions.” Hermione went off toward the Griffindor common room and Snape walked toward the Professors’ dormitories, patrolling as he went.

          As Hermione made her way up the stairs, she thought she could hear footsteps behind her. Turning, it was empty. She hadn’t noticed anything when Severus had brought it up, but now she felt like she was being watched. The footsteps grew closer, on her heels. There was hot breath near her ear. Someone grabbed her arm and lead her toward the portrait.

          She tried to pull her arm away, but he was gripping it. “Harry, take that stupid thing off.”

          “Not here.”

          They went through the portrait hole to a common room still bustling with kids. It was only nine o’clock. Harry kept his invisibility cloak on and pulled Hermione after him up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. He threw her in, locked the door behind him and tore off the cloak.

          “When were you going to tell us, Hermione?” Harry practically shouted.

          Hermione went pale. She did a quick silencing charm so no one could overhear them. “How much did you hear?”

          “Enough. Good night, I love you, what the hell is that? And you kissed him Hermione, do you have any idea...”

          “Severus?”

          “Oh, god, you’re calling him Severus. I mean, I had suspicions about him from way back, always favouring you, smiling, watching you. But I never dreamed you would be stupid enough to...”

          “Harry, you’ve got it all wrong.”

          “Is he the man you’ve been seeing, that you went out with that night?”

          “Harry would you just listen.”

          “He’s old enough to be your father!”

          “He is my father.”

          Harry stared at her, blinking.

          “Listen, sit down.” Hermione said, leading him to the edge of his bed. “It’s a long, complicated story and I know I should have told you and Ron, but the longer I went, the harder it became and I just didn’t.”

          Harry put his face in his hands and leaned over the bed. “Alright, tell me everything, and I will reserve the right to yell at you afterward.”

          “Well, you know my dad, the one you’ve met, is my step dad right.”

          “Yeah, but you said he’s been around since you were a baby.”

          “And he has, he raised me. But he’s not my biological father. It turns out years ago, my mother and Severus Snape were together for a while. Eventually she found out he was a wizard and she panicked and left. She didn’t find out she was pregnant with me until after she left him. And he stayed out of my life until I got into Hogwarts, then he contacted me and said he was my Dad. Mom was so furious. I think she would have banned me from coming here if it weren’t the only wizarding school in the UK.”

          “But why didn’t you tell us?”

          “I didn’t want to tell anyone. I mean, the first months here, everyone already didn’t like me. I wasn’t going to throw being the daughter of the most hated professor into the mix. Besides, my mom told me to stay away from him and I had only talked to the man once. I didn’t want to bother with any of it. I didn’t start actually talking to him until the end of our second year. By then I figured you and Ron would just be furious at me for not mentioning it. Or you’d just hate me all together. You’re always going on about how evil he is.” Hermione stared at her feet.

          Harry sat back. “You’re telling me Snape is your biological father who was astranged from you for eleven years. I’m not sure I’m buying it.”

          “We’re not that different. Same nose, same hands, same inability to have nice hair. It explains why I’m such a natural at potions and spell casting.”

          “Then why were you telling me you were on an astronomy date? You could have come up with a better excuse.”

          “Oh. That was a date with a boy. That’s actually kind of why Severus was yelling at me in the first place. He doesn’t approve.” Hermione said, “I mean, he approves more than he did with Viktor, but he’s not very happy. He gave me a bit of a lecture.”

            Harry started laughing. “Now that sounds like the Snape I know.”  



	24. The DA Versus the Inquisitorial Squad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension between Hogwarts and Slytherin heats up as the DA continues to run, and Draco and Hermione have a row.

          Hermione hadn’t seen much of Draco lately, only spotting him in classes, giving him sideways glances when Snape, Harry and Ron all weren’t looking. That wasn’t very often. She had begun bringing her parchment with her to Professor Binns’ class as well for something to do. Draco had Trelawney at that time and could get away with anything due to her short sighted-ness. He mentioned meeting up once or twice to study but the DA was in full swing now, meeting almost every night. Harry was easy to get away from now that he knew about her dad, but Ron was growing uncommonly observant.

          Hermione did manage to slip away one Saturday afternoon for lunch. The inquisitorial squad had hit them pretty hard the night before so the DA had decided to postpone that night’s meeting until Tuesday night in a hope to throw filch and his lackies off. She slipped into the great hall, wrapped several sandwiches into a napkin and told Ron and Harry she was going to the library to do some ancient rune homework for most of the day. She made her way out of the castle, where Malfoy was leaning against the brick wall waiting as planned.

          He followed a few paces behind her as she walked toward an empty area of the grass. Draco heckled her as they passed a few first graders. Soon the group had passed and Hermione was able to set up the sandwiches in peace. Draco lounged on the grass like he owned the place. He pulled two bottles of butter beer from his bag and Hermione’s book.

          “I finally finished the book,” He said, grabbing a sandwich.

          “Took you long enough. I could have brought you the third book if you had told me.”

          “Ah well, I guess we’ll have to have lunch again later.” He open the bottles and passed one to Hermione.

          “Definitely, I’m just so busy lately.”

          “I guess Harry keeps you pretty busy teaching dark arts to the little Gryffindors.” Draco started peeling the label from his butter beer.

          Hermione sighed and layed on the grass. “Can we not argue today, I’ve been arguing with everyone lately.”

          She laid next to Draco and let the sun fall on her face.

          “Who’s everyone?”

          “Harry found out about my Dad, and he’s furious I didn’t tell him earlier. Dad’s furious at me cause I told him at all. Which wasn’t even my fault, Harry saw us hugging one night after dinner and flipped out, what else was I supposed to say?”

          “You’ve still got Ron.” Draco said.

          Hermione ignored the sarcasm in his voice. “Ron and I are probably arguing about something, or else we’re about to start arguing. We’re always mad at each other.”

          Hermione stretched her arms behind her head and relaxed into the grass. Draco passed her and sandwich and they ate in silence for a minute. Hermione finished and closed her eyes. The sun fell onto her face and her hair, shining a little more golden. “I always feel like a cat when it’s sunny out, I just want to curl up and nap.”

          “Go ahead.” Draco sat up and got another sandwich out.

          Hermione laughed. “No, I’d feel weird.”

          “I don’t mind.” Draco said, “It’s probably the last nice weekend we’ll have before it starts getting cold. You nap, I’ll stay on lookout, and finish off the sandwiches.”

          “Well, wake me up in fifteen or twenty minutes.” Hermione said.

          She rested deeper into the still green grass. It was like being back on summer vacation. Draco almost forgot they were at Hogwarts, surrounded by hundreds of people, probably none of which would support how they felt. Blaise might, if he knew Hermione wasn’t a mudblood, but he couldn’t tell any of his friends that either. He looked around to make sure no one was there. They were sitting in a little grassy valley near the whomping willow, so it was likely no one would be showing up. He turned back to watching Hermione, her eyes closed, her lips slightly turned up in a smile. The most amazing thing Draco found about Hermione was that she wasn’t actually all that pretty. She wasn’t particularly skinny or voluptuous, and she had inherited just a few too many traits from Severus to be conventionally attractive. She was no Millicent Bullstrode, but she wasn’t going to turn any heads either. She didn’t even try to be pretty, a bit of lipstick on her thin, colourless lips. Some foundation to cover up a few blemishes, some attempt to control her hair. No, Hermione didn’t even try to be attractive. It made everything that much more confusing for Draco. If she was beautiful, it would have been only natural for Draco to be attracted to her in some way. But she wasn’t, and he was more than a little attracted to her.

          Hermione opened her eyes. “I can’t sleep if you keep staring at me.”

          Draco turned a little red. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

          Hermione laughed. Her whole body shook, her lips spread to a smile and her eyes shone in the sunshine. Draco should kiss her again. He should kiss her right now, he thought.

          Voices carried over the hills, two people arguing with each other, coming closer. Hermione sat up in a jolt.

          “It’s Fred and George.” She went pale, stood up and grabbed Draco’s hand.

          Together they ran, leaving the napkins from the sandwiches and the empty bottles behind them. Hermione pulled him up in the opposite direction of the tree, up a hill and behind a rock to hide.

          “What are they doing out here?” Hermione said out loud, peaking around the rock.

          Draco was still holding her hand and pulled her back to him. He held her to his chest as they listened to the twins pass. They were arguing about some new spell they were trying for their sweets. They came to the bottles and the footsteps stopped. They joked about breaking up someone’s weekend snogging party.

          “Oi, you can have the grass back in a minute,” George called, “We’re just passing through.”

          “They probably can’t hear you,” Fred said, “Continued on somewhere else I bet.”

          They laughed and continued walking. Their voices died away behind another hill and Hermione rested into Draco’s chest with relief.

          “You were really worried about them finding us, weren’t you?” Draco was scowling.

          “Of course I was, they’d probably think you’d used some spell to get me here. They’d attack you or something.”

          Draco’s jaw hardened. “I could take them.”

          “Stop being so moody, you’d be just as worried if it were a couple of slytherins on our heels.”        

          Draco’s scowl dropped into a frown. He pulled Hermione closer to him. “We’re never going to be able to be friends in public, are we?”

          Hermione sighed and slid her arms around to hug him back. “We should get back soon.”

          Draco didn’t let go. He leaned his head on the rock and tried to seal the rest of this afternoon into his memories. He wished he had a pensieve to hold all the moments he didn’t want to forget. Then he could go back and sit with her whenever he wanted.

* * *

 

          On Wednesday night, Hermione was getting ready for the DA meeting when she got a message from Draco. “Come see me tonight.”

          “I can’t” Hermione wrote back. “I’m busy. Tomorrow?”

          Draco wrote back. “Don’t go tonight.”

          Hermione stared down at the paper, eyebrows scrunched.

          “What is it?” Harry asked from across the common room.  
          “Nothing.” Hermione shoved the paper into her bag. “Are you ready to go?”

          They left the common room and started heading toward the room of requirements for the meeting. When they had gotten down the first set of stairs, a Slytherin Hermione vaguely recognised from potions began following them. They took a few turns and twists and lost them for a while, only to meet up with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle harassing Neville.

          Crabbe laughed and grabbed Harry and Ron’s arms to stop their escape. Draco met Hermione’s gaze then dropped his eyes to the ground. Goyle made to grab Hermione and she slapped him.

          “Don’t you touch me!”

          Then, Filch cam around the corner smiling. “What have we caught here? Good work boys.”

          “Let us go, we haven’t done anything.” Harry shouted.

          “Out this late, big group of you having a meeting are we? You wouldn’t happen to be part of Dumbledore’s Army, would you?”

          “What? Never heard of it.” Ron said.

          “We’re studying potions together.” Hermione jumped in. “Preparing for our OWLs.”

          “I’m sure you know that Professor Umbridge has disbanded all student groups, including study groups. So unless you have teacher permission...”

          “We do.” Hermione cut in. “Professor Snape has agreed to chaperone us in the potions lab so we can get more practice brewing potions.”

          Ron jabbed her in the ribs with his elbow. Neville looked like he was going to be ill. The inquisitorial squad just stared at her.

          “We’ll soon see about this.” Filch dragged them all down the hallway, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle following behind all of them. They went down to the dungeons and into the potions room where Severus Snape was marking papers at his desk. He looked up, shocked at the eight bodies in his room.

          “What is it, filch?”

          “These students have said you are chaperoning their study group tonight.”

          Snape stood up. His eyes darted from Harry and Ron looking deflated, Neville who was still cowering, to Hermione’s pleading eyes.

          “And I can only assume that you and your squad are the reason I’ve already wasted twenty minutes waiting for them, Filch.”

          Filch flinched, “I’m sorry Professor, but they were wandering the halls and it’s my job to check these things.”

          “Let’s not waste any more of my night, Filch.”

          “Yes, professor, I’m sorry.” Filch turned and left, pushing Goyle, Crabbe, and Draco along with him. He closed the door behind him and apologized to Snape again.

          Snape heaved a sigh and sat back down. “You four are lucky that the only thing I detest more than your little group is Professor Umbridge.” He folded his thin fingers on his desk and glared at each of them individually. “The next time you wish to pull a stunt, I suggest you leave me well out of it. I expect a roll of parchment from each of you about the importance of organization and planning ahead. On my desk by tomorrow’s potions class.”

          The four of them stared back at him.

          “You’re excused.” Snape gestured to the door then went back to marking.

          They snuck back to the Gryffindor common room.

          “That was a lucky break,” Ron said, “What do you think is wrong with Snape.”

          Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, who was frowning. “Maybe he was telling the truth.” Harry said, “I mean, maybe he just hates Umbridge that much.”

          “It is possible.” Neville said, “She is that unlikable.”

          “You’re the one who made us go see Snape, Hermione.” Ron said. “I think it’s only fair you help us write these papers.”

* * *

 

          Hermione snuck into the boys’ dorm while they were still down in the common room. She took the marauder’s map from Harry’s trunk and found Draco on it, sitting in a corner of the library.

          Hermione slipped away from everyone else, getting quite good at it by now, and found Draco in the library. No one was around so she sat across from him.

          “What is your problem?” Hermione asked.

          “I told you not to go tonight.”

          “I can’t believe you’re helping Filch, all we’re trying to do is get a bit of learning actually done in this school. What’s wrong with that?”

          “Yeah, fine for your friends” Draco leaned back and crossed his arms.

          “What’s that supposed to mean?”

          “Is there a single slytherin in your group?”

          “Draco, you don’t exactly get along with everyone else.”

          “But there aren’t any slytherins. You go on and on about how unfair it is we can’t be friends, how no one will understand, but you’re just as bad as everyone else.”

          Hermione stood up and took a step back. “You didn’t have to join Umbridge against us.”

          “Hermione, come back. We’ll talk.”

          Hermione walked back to the common room and went to bed.


	25. Occlumency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape makes Harry learn occlumency to protect Hermione's secret.

          “I don’t see what the big deal is.” Hermione and Draco were hiding in the astronomy tower, avoiding the snow falling outside. “He didn’t freak out nearly this much when you found out.”

          “I’ve also known occlumency since I was a kid. Harry’s going to let the secret out the first time a seventh year uses the spell on him.”

          “You two are talking like it’s some national secret.”

          “Hermione, Severus switched sides. That sort of thing attracts enemies. Tell people he’s got a muggle born daughter who’s best friends with scar head and you might as well just paint a bulls eye on your back.”

          “You think it will be that bad?”

          “I think it depends how far He gets.”

          They sat with a thermos of hot chocolate between them, taking turns drinking out of the lid.

          “Can you really do occlumency?”

          “Yeah, try it.” Draco said. Hermione stared back. “I know you know the spell, it’s fine.”

          Hermione pulled out her wand, pointed it at Draco. “legilimens.” Hermione said. It felt funny, like she was looking through his eyes for a second, like she could see herself staring back, then static. She saw nothing but a grey and white screen, like when your TV is on the frits. Admittedly, she had never tried the spell before and wasn’t very good at it, but it was still impressive. She didn’t know anyone, except a few adults who could do occlumency.

* * *

 

          “I can’t do it, it’s too hard.” Harry said. “I need a break, we’ve been doing this for hours.”

          “We will keep doing it until you get it right.” Snape pointed his wand at Harry, tried the spell again and there was a flood of images. Harry and Cho, the dream he’d had with the snake, catching the snitch, Snape kissing Hermione on the forehead that night.

          “Concentrate!” Snape yelled, dropping his wand again.

          “What does it matter, I don’t know anything the dark lord would care about!”

          “Nothing?” Snape spat. “What about your weaknesses, how to get in and out of Hogwarts unseen, what Dumbledore is up to, what about Hermione?”

          Harry sighed and sat down. He was always on about this, night after night. Hermione this and Hermione that, ever since Harry had found out Snape was her biological father. “Can’t you drop it? I’m not going to do anything about it, even if I wish I could.”

          “Hermione shouldn’t have told you. She’s put her life in the hands of a fifteen year old with a mental connection to the dark lord. You’re going to get us all killed.”

          “He’s not after you,” Harry crossed his arms. “He’s after me, remember?”

          “Stupid boy, he’s after all of us. He would destroy every man woman and child who opposed him if he had the chance. And through you he would know how to do it, unless you learn to block him out.”

          “How? How could he get to us?”

          “With me.” Severus said, “He would take Hermione from me, and I would tear the world apart to get her back. I would do anything he asked to keep her safe.”

          Harry’s eyes widened. He sat frozen for a second. “Anything?”

          “Without a second thought.” Snape stared back at him, his dark eyes glinting wildly in the candlelight.

          Harry swallowed. “Do the spell again.”

          Snape raised his wand once more.


	26. End of Fifth Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of feels as fifth year winds down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not writing the scenes leading up to and inside the department of mysteries. I have nothing to add to these scenes and JK wrote them better than I could. Everything happens exactly as it did in the book. This chapter begins just after the battle, when Hermione is recovering in the hospital wing.

          Hermione woke up in the hospital ward at Hogwarts. Draco sat beside her and squeezed her hand. Looking at the blonde boy, memories came back to her. The fight in the department of mysteries. Sirius’ death. Voldemort’s return. Lucius Malfoy, who had begun the attack.

          She turned to look at Draco Malfoy, grasping his hand with both of hers. The same platinum hair, the same thin lips, the same grey eyes. And yet, completely different than his father.

          “Potter’s still unconscious, so is Lovegood.” Draco said, “Weasley’s been prowling about you like a lion,” Draco swallowed, “All of your friends have, really. So I haven’t had much chance to slip in and see you.”

          “Where are they now?”

          “It’s one in the morning.” Draco smiled a little.

          Hermione looked around at the ward. Everything was dark. The curtain around her was mostly drawn, and through the crack she could see Harry’s glasses on a bedside table, reflected in the moonlight.

          “I suppose you know what happened.” Hermione sat up and let his hand go.

          “It’s all over the papers.”          

          Hermione looked away. Her throat was dry, but there wasn’t a glass of water to be found. She turned back to Draco. “Your father was there.”

          “I know.”

          Draco looked away. Hermione took his hand again but he snatched it back.

          “You should rest.” He leaned in and hugged Hermione for a long moment, but still refused to look at her. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

* * *

 

          Snape kicked Draco’s chair, nearly knocking the sleeping boy right out of it. He jolted up and dropped Hermione’s hand. She opened her eyes from all the ruckus. Draco stared up at Snape from his chair. He was too afraid to glance at Hermione, in bed not six inches from him.

          “Get back to bed, it’s nearly six.” Snape said.

          “I fell asleep,” Draco whispered. He slipped out of the hospital room, hardly glancing at Hermione as he left.

          Snape took his place in the chair. “When did you wake up?”

          “Late last night.” Hermione said, she took her dad’s hand and squeezed it.

          “He’s been here since then?”

          “He really did just fall asleep, daddy. It was already past one when I woke up, and we were just exhausted.”

          “Hermione, be careful.”

          “He said everyone else was here until lights out. Isn’t that why you’re here so early?”

          “Yeah.” Snape said. He leaned over and brushed the hair from Hermione’s eyes. “Are you ever going to stop doing this to me?”

          “I’m sorry.”

          “Your mother is furious with me. She says I should have been watching you better, not let you get these crazy ideas in your head.”

          “That’s stupid.”

          “She’s right.” Snape hung his head. “I’m supposed to protect you, no matter what. Harry told me where you were going and I did nothing.”

          “You sent the order after us.”

          “I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place.” Snape was trying not to shout now. “I should have made you all stay here and send the order. At the very least, I should have come and got you myself.”

          “You couldn’t have come though, could you?” Hermione whispered.

          Snape stayed silent and stared at Hermione.

          “I know you used to be a death eater, Dad. But they all still know you, you talk to Lucius Malfoy all the time. You’re still connected to them somehow, aren’t you? That’s why you’re always so worried about people knowing about me.”

          “My smart girl.” Snape swallowed. “This is never to come out to anyone, not Harry, especially not Draco.”

          Hermione nodded.

          “Dumbledore has asked me to keep working with the death eaters and keep him informed on their plans. That’s what I’ve been doing for the last fifteen years.”

          Hermione’s eyes grew wider as they talked. “But...what about them?”

          “They think I’m spying on Dumbledore.” Snape chuckled. “I bring them back bits of news every so often. Things Dumbledore doesn’t mind if they know.”

          “And you’re mad at me for doing dangerous things? What if someone catches you, what if they do find out about me?”

          Snape laughed. “Now you know how I’m feeling, always worrying.” Snape moved to the edge of the bed and hugged Hermione to him. “Don’t worry, I’ve been doing this for a very long time. I’ve got a knack for it.”

          They stayed like that for a long time, then Hermione looked up. “Dad?”

          “Hmm?”

          Will you promise me something? Look after Draco.” Hermione buried her face back in his chest and hugged him harder. “With everything that happened, especially with his Dad gone, he’s going to have a hard time.”

          “I promise.” Snape said.

* * *

 

          It was the last weekend of school. Everyone was packing up their trunks, fumbling around, looking for things they hadn’t seen since September.

          “We should do something tomorrow.” Hermione wrote onto her parchment. “Mom is still pretty mad about Dad, and I don’t know how soon I’ll be able to make it to the locke.”

          “What are you thinking of.”

          “I don’t know, just something.”

          “Meet me at the edge of the forest at noon. Grab some sandwiches, I’ll do the rest.”

* * *

 

          Draco was standing just behind the tree line, waiting for her when she came trumping through the grass with her bag. He stepped out to meet her, holding his broom in one hand. She stopped.

          “What’s that for?”

          What’s the matter, Granger, scared?” Draco teased her, like he used to.

          “Yes, actually, I don’t like flying.”

          “Oh.” Draco said, softening, “How afraid, cause I was going to bring you somewhere you can’t get to any other way.”

          Hermione sighed. “Is it worth it, like really worth it?”

          “Definitely. And I’ll do all the flying, you can just shut your eyes and hold onto me.”

          “Alright.”

          Draco mounted his broom and waited for Hermione to climb on behind him. She slung her bag across her chest and wrapped her arms around Draco’s torso to prepare.

          “Try not to do any sudden turns and jerks.” Hermione asked.

          “Why would I if you’re scared?” Draco asked over his shoulder.

          “I don’t know, anytime I’m with Harry, he thinks it’s funny to freak me out.”

          “It will be smooth sailing the whole way, I promise.”

          He kicked his feet off and they soared through the air. Hermione shut her eyes tight and pressed her whole body into Draco. He kept his promise, flying fairly straight and slow. Hermione pretended they were only a few feet from the ground. She focussed instead on the feel of Draco’s sweater, the way his ribs stretched in and out to breathe, the way he always smelled of pine, cedar, fresh rain.

          They touched down again and Hermione opened her eyes, slowly letting go of Draco. Hermione stood dumbstruck, staring around. They were in some quiet mountain village, surrounded by ruins of an ancient place built upon the rocks. There were brick walls and roads still standing, and you could see where the thatched houses used to stand.

          “Where are we?” Hermione said, spinning around and smiling.

          Draco took his broom in one hand and Hermione’s hand in his other. He lead her over to a cliff edge. Below them and just to the west, Hogwarts castle stood. She could see the turrets of the astronomy and divination towers from here. The quidditch pitch looked like a toy, and the black lake looked like a piece of glass from up here.

          “It was a village of witches and wizards way back, back when the castle was still occupied. The Lord who owned it was a wizard, so magical folk from all over England flocked to live on his land. He protected them from persecution, and they were free to use their magic to farm, which means he got twice as much from them as he would have. At one point, this whole area was filled with Witches and Wizards.”

          “I read something like that in Hogwarts, A History.” Hermione said, “But I didn’t think there were any ruins actually left.”

          “Come over here, part of the Hall is still standing.” Draco grabbed Hermione’s hand again and pulled her along.”

          They explored the ruins all day. Hermione made some rubbings of a few interesting seals still set into the stone. They tried to decode words they found carved into stone, and ended up making a joke of it. The sun began to sink in the sky. Hermione stood balancing on the top of a stone wall, watching the sky turn pink and orange.

          “I wish you’d come down from there.” Draco said.

          “Why, afraid I’ll fall and crack my head open?” Hermione giggled, balanced and walked a bit further.

          “Come on, Hermione. If you get broken just out of the hospital, your dad will kill me.”

          “Alright. Help me down.”

          Draco held his arms out to Hermione and lifted her slowly to the ground. Her feet touched back onto the ground, but her hands stayed on Draco’s shoulders. He tightened his hands around her hips, leaning in a little.

          “Draco.” Hermione asked, “Why did you bring me here today?”

          “You didn’t like it?”

          “I loved it,” Hermione smiled, “It’s a bit grand for you, though. I’d have been happy with lunch somewhere in the castle.”

          Draco shrugged, “I just wanted something really happy to remember.”

          “What do you mean?” Hermione’s eyes searched his face.

          “It’s just been a hard year, is all. Now at least we can think about this and not everything else that’s happened.”

          “Thank you,” Hermione smiled, “I’ll still see you this summer, won’t I?”

          “We’ll see.” Draco forced a smile.

          “I know my Mom said I can’t come, but she’ll loosen up, I know it. It’ll be like last summer again, okay?”

          “I’d like that.” Draco said. He looked up at the sky instead of Hermione. “We should be getting back soon, or we’ll miss dinner.”

          “Yeah.”

          Neither of them moved. Hermione played with Draco’s sweater at his neck. Draco’s hands slid from her hips around to hold her.

          “We really should go.” Hermione said, almost a whisper.

          “Mhmm.”

          Draco felt Hermione pull at his neck, rise up on her toes, and he moved in to kiss her. His lips were softer this time, almost afraid to do anything, which made Hermione pull him in closer to her. They stood like this for a long time, Hermione doing most of the kissing, and Draco holding her tight, too afraid to let her go. They stopped when Hermione’s legs got sore, still on tip-toe. She smiled into his chest and giggled. Draco held her to him, his pale hand tangled in her hair. He was trying to remember her exact smell, her exact height, the feel of her lips on his.

          “We really should get going now.”

          Draco collected his broom stick and the two mounted. Hermione held tight to Draco’s back as they flew, but she kept her eyes open this time, looking down on the castle as they got closer. They landed and Draco began to walk away from her immediately, his boom in hand.

          “Draco?” Hermione said.

          He turned around and took a few steps closer.

          Hermione chewed on her lip. “Do you promise we’ll see each other this Summer?”

          Draco chewed on his lip, checked over his shoulder as he stepped closer to her. He swooped and lifted her to him, kissed her like he had been meaning to all year. He poured his entire life into holding her up, placed his whole future into that kiss. It was a good thing he held her tight, because Hermione’s ankles would have collapsed. As he set her back down, her knees nearly buckled for a second, before she caught herself.


	27. A Crappy Summer Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione isn't allowed to go to the Loch during break, and that means she can't see Draco either. Instead, they both spend the summer grumbling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are a few more book seven spoilers in here, but I don't use specific names. In case people haven't read or seen 7 yet.

Hermione spent the first few weeks of Summer being bored out of her mind. After all of her begging and pleading, her mother still wouldn’t let her go visit her dad. To make matters worse, she sent an angry letter to Snape to try and get him to change her mind, and he just wrote back saying she was right. It was too dangerous, he said, now that Voldemort was back, for them to be seen together. Finally, after two more letters and a whiney phone call, she convinced him to at least come down to their house for dinner one night. Her mother wasn’t particularly happy about this, but Severus’ previous worry made her a bit more at ease.

          The night in question, Hermione helped her mother make a traditional English dinner, pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, Yorkshire puddings, and roasted veggies. It was reminiscent of Snape’s birthday dinner the summer previously, and Hermione hoped her dad would remember and appreciate it. At a quarter to six, Snape called the house to let them know he would be apperating directly into the living room in a minute, to avoid being seen outside the house. Hermione agreed and smiled, barely able to wait. She called her mom and step-dad into the living room to let them know what would be happening. The air pressure fell, Hermione felt like the room was squishing together, then there was a loud pop and Snape was standing in their living room. Hermione was glad to see he had opted to wear his courduroys, and a relatively normal button down shirt.

          “Blimey, can you do that, Hermione?” Her step dad asked, obviously amazed by the piece of magic.

          “Not until I’m seventeen, like driving.”

          Hermione’s mother on the other hand, was staring in shock. “Could you always do that?”

          “Yes.” Snape said.

          “Right into our living room, though?”

          “Had I wanted to.” Snape said slowly. “But I’d never intrude like that.”

          “Thank you.” She muttered, something that took Hermione by surprise, and everyone else in the room by surprise as well.

          Seeing the situation diffused, Hermione pushed past her mom and hugged Severus quite tightly.

          “I’m glad you could make it. I missed you.”

          “Already?” Snape said, flattening down her hair. “It’s only been a few weeks.”

          “I know.”

          They sat down for dinner and Snape helped himself to everything, saying how delicious everything was and how much he missed Hermione’s cooking from last summer.

          “The cooking was mostly Draco.” Hermione said, blushing at the compliment. “Tell Draco I said hello, by the way. I tried writing to him, but I guess he’s busy.” Hermione muttered.

          “Who’s Draco?” Hermione’s step dad asked.

          “My god son,” Snape said. “He’s in the same year as Hermione, and they’ve become friends.” Snape took a sip of wine, then turned to Hermione, “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to see Draco much this summer either. His mother wants him to stay home, as you can imagine.”

          “Oh, yeah.” Hermione whispered.

          “But when I see him next, I’ll give him your message. And I’m sure he’s just too busy right now to answer back to your letter.” Snape smiled.

          “Will you see him at Ron’s?” Hermione’s mother asked. “Hermione is going to spend the last half of the summer at the – what do they call it? The Burrow? Won’t your friend Draco be there?”

          “No, Ron and Harry aren’t really friends with Draco.” Hermione muttered.

          The dinner was getting worse and worse in her opinion. Everyone was just bringing up everything she had been trying not to think about since she had last seen Draco. Just when Hermione thought things couldn’t get any worse, Hermione’s step dad put down his fork and opened his mouth.

          “So, Severus, is there any news you can bring us from the other world about this you-know-who character. Hermione makes him sound quite grim, and of course my wife won’t let us mention the name, she says she remembers a bit of the ruckus from what you said about the last war. I admit, I don’t really understand what is happening.”

          “Voldemort is a bad man,” Snape said, leaning back in his chair. “I would say he was comparable to Stalin, or perhaps Hitler, except with magic, so you can imagine the destruction. He never had any power in our government, though.” Snape said, trying to reassure Hermione’s step dad’s worried face. “The last war began because he had tried to gain political power, and the wizarding world fought back to stop him. We won, and it was believed that Voldemort had died. This all ended about fifteen years ago, when Hermione was still a baby.”

          “But Hermione said he was back.” Her mother said, “How did the wizards get it that wrong, was he dead or wasn’t he?”

          “That’s the thing about magic,” Snape said, “There are ways, gruesome and terrible ways, of being neither.”

          Hermione’s mother stared hard at Snape, who stared back for a moment. Dinner finished relatively smoothly after that. When everything was finished and done, Hermione’s mom stood up.

          “Well, I think that was a success.” She said.

          “It was lovely, thank you for having me.” Snape said.

          “Severus, could you help me with the dishes in the kitchen.” She said, trying to smile.

          They locked eyes for a moment, Hermione and her step dad looking between them, nervous.

          “Of course.” Snape finally said. He collected the plates and followed Hermione’s mom into the kitchen. She closed the door behind them.

          Hermione looked to the door, then to her step dad who was also staring at the door.

          “You aren’t worried about them, are you?” Hermione asked, shyly. “I mean, him being my father.”

          “I’m more worried for your father, Hermione.” He said. “That was not her happy face. I wonder what she’s worried about.”

          Inside the kitchen, the dishes were piled into the sink, and the faucet was turned on, filling up the sink with hot water, but no one was doing the dishes.

          “I realise that when we broke everything off, you were...troubled, shall we say. But I’m not an idiot, Severus. Hermione’s been filling me in on quite a bit more history than you ever did, and I’ve been able to fill in quite a few blanks. Avery, Mulciber, I saw those names in her wizard paper. You didn’t think I’d remember their names, did you?”

          Severus stared back, looking more terrified than he had in a long time. “Please, I had a lot of problems back then, you know probably more than anyone else. But I’m not that person anymore, I swear. Hell, I was barely that person back then. By the time Hermione was born, I had switched sides. I talked to you about that too, remember?”

          “I nearly didn’t let you come tonight. I had half a heart to never let you see her again.”

          She was glaring at Snape now, and he was staring back dumbfounded, deflated, nearly in tears.

          “Please, she’s all I’ve got left. You can’t-you can’t take her away from me.”

          “And what happened to that other woman?” She asked, “The woman you were going to leave it all for? I always knew you loved her.”

          Snape did begin to cry now. He did it silently and discretely, but Hermione’s mother could see the tears streaming down his face. “I couldn’t save her.” Snape whispered. “But I swear, I won’t let anything happen to Hermione. I will die, I will lay down my own lie before I let that happen.”

          “Swear to me you haven’t gotten yourself tangled up in this mess again.” She seemed unmoved by Snape’s tears, even a little disgused.

          “I swear, I haven’t been in league with them for almost sixteen years now, I’ve changed, I promise.”

          Hermione’s mother looked away for a second, considering something. “I know there are protective enchantments on this house, I know they’ve probably been here for years. I assume that was you.”

          “Yes.” Severus said, wiping away his tears with the back of his hands now, staring at the floor.

          “I want more.” She said. She handed Snape a tea towel, then left him alone in the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.

          Snape made his way out a few minutes later, looking as though nothing had happened. He stayed half an hour longer, having coffee and chatting about books and muggle football that, surprising to Hermione’s dad, he did follow a little. Hermione sat next to him, wishing to spend as much time as close to him as she could, knowing this would probably be the last time until school began. When he left, she hugged him tightly good bye, and he kissed her on the top of her head.

          “Do you think you can get my message to Draco, in case he doesn’t write back?”

          “I should be up to his place in the next few weeks, so I’ll tell him, yes.”

          “And you’ll write me all summer, even when I’m at the burrow?”

          “I will, yes. But, Hermione, make sure you tell your owl only to deliver stuff to the cottage. And don’t put your name on it, or anything else people could identify it by.”  

          Yes, I know.” Hermione sighed.

          “I know you think I’m being paranoid and ridiculous, but I’m not. You got the ministry pamphlets. You have to take this seriously.”

          “I am, I promise.” Hermione said.

          “Alright.” Snape hugged Hermione goodbye one more time, then shook her mom and step dad’s hand good bye. Then he stepped back and was gone with another loud pop.

* * *

 

          The following weekend, Snape had another dinner, this time at the Malfoy Manor. It was much more extravagant than the Granger dinner had been. Cooks brought in platters of food. Servants rushed around with napkins and drinks. There were about five guests in total, all fellow death eaters, all close friends of the family. They sat in relative silence, breaking it only to talk about news and compliment Narcissa. Things had become gloomy in the manor since Lucius’ capture. Draco spent most of his time in his room, and didn’t wish to speak to anyone. Narcissa went between trying to do everything to keep herself busy, and doing nothing all day, sometimes not even getting out of bed.

          After pudding, the group moved to the parlour to chat. Draco excused himself, said goodnight to everyone, then went back up to his room. Snape followed a little while afterwards. He knocked on Draco’s bedroom door and when there was no answer, he let himself in.

          “How are you, Draco?”

          Draco shrugged. He was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, looking fairly comatose.

          “I was told to bring you greetings the next time I saw you.” Snape said.

          Draco sat up. “You said you weren’t at the cottage this year.”

          “I’m not, but I do go out into the world sometimes.”

          Draco laid back down. “Is everything alright, when you go out?”

          “Yes, everything goes smoothly, happily.” Snape said.

          Draco turned on his side, away from Snape. He didn’t want to look at the man anymore.

          “I know it’s difficult, Draco. It hurts.”

          “You don’t know anything.” Draco spat.

          Severus took the chair from Draco’s desk and turned it around to face the bed. “I was in much the same predicament as you once upon a time.”

          Draco snorted a laugh.

          “She hated all my friends, I hated hers. Especially her boyfriend.”

          Draco turned back toward Snape. “What happened?”

          “We had a row. I called her a very bad name. She never spoke to me again.” Snape’s head fell, and he clasped his hands together. “It was probably for the best. I always tell myself we could have been happy, I could have kept her safe, but that’s just a lie I tell myself to make it through. She couldn’t have lived with me like this. So we’d have left, and be dead in two weeks.” Snape sighed.

          “But it could have worked out, couldn’t it have?” Draco asked. “If you had told her how you felt, if you hadn’t joined up.”

          “If I had been braver, stronger, easier to love. If I had different parents. There will always be what ifs, Draco, but there are things that not even we can change.”

          Draco settled back down onto his back. “How did you get over her?”

          “I didn’t” Snape muttered.

          Draco looked up.

          “I have loved two people in my life, Draco, and I will always love them until my last breath. She was the first, and the second is shared by the two of us. I imagine by the time I take my last breath, I’ll have lost them both.” Snape stood up and walked to the door. “I don’t want you to end up like me, Draco. I wish I had better advice on how to avoid it.”


	28. The Burrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Ron/Hermione feels at the Burrow

“Hey, Harry.” Ron came through the kitchen door to find Harry propped up on the kitchen counter trying to fit a too-large sandwich into his mouth.

          “What’s up?” Harry said, spraying crumbs from his full mouth.

          “Has Hermione mentioned anything about problems at home?”

          Harry tried not to look like he knew something. “What do you mean?”

          “Well, she’s been off lately, hasn’t she? I thought it was just everything from last year, but she’s got another letter today. I just picked it up in the garden, it’s from her dad.”

          Harry turned back to his sandwich to hide. “There’s nothing weird about that.”

          “Well, it’s from just her dad, not her mom. I thought maybe something was wrong, they were splitting up or something.”

          “Why don’t you ask Hermione?” Harry said.

          “You don’t think it will upset her more...oh, afternoon.” Ron straightened up, greeting Hermione.

          “What are you two up to, then?’

          “Nothing.” Harry and Ron said in unison.

          “I wasn’t quizzing you, I meant what are we doing today.” Hermione muttered. “What’s that?” She pointed to Ron’s hand.

          “You’ve got mail, I grabbed it from an owl in the garden. From your dad, I think.”

          “Oh, thanks.” Hermione took the letter and put it in her pocket.

          “You don’t want to open it?” Ron said.

          “I’ll read it later.” Hermione smiled, but couldn’t help feeling watched. She shoved the letter into her pocket, trying not to crush it too much. She was mostly just excited to get a letter from him, though she couldn’t tell anyone that. Ron left not long after, agreeing they would play some quidditch in the yard later. As soon as Ron was up the stairs, Hermione pulled the letter out and ripped it open.

          “You don’t mind, do you, Harry?”

          “Course not.” How could he? As much as he didn’t like Snape, he could understand Hermione. Sure she had her step dad, but she’d spent her whole life feeling like she was missing someone in her life. Then suddenly, he appeared. It was how he used to feel about Sirius. He could see the same rushed happiness he used to get from one of his letters. He didn’t want to tell Hermione though, didn’t want to talk about Sirius yet. “What does it say?”

          “The order is really busy,” Hermione said, “He’s been helping Dumbledore put up way more security at the castle.” Hermione’s head sagged a bit, “He thinks it might be too dangerous to meet much at Hogwarts, so I’ll just have to keep sending letters for the most part.” Hermione folded up the letter and sighed, blinking quickly to avoid tears.

          “I think you should tell Ron.” Harry said.

          “Harry...”

          “He’s noticed you’ve been sensitive lately, and he’s already figured out it’s those letters.” Harry said.

          “It’s too dangerous, though. Now You-Know-Who is back, everyone who knows is a risk. I’m not saying I don’t trust Ron, or anything...”

          “I get it.” Harry thought about the discussions he had already had with Snape. The heightened fear he felt for Hermione, if he wasn’t able to keep the secret. Failing his occlumency lessons with Snape last year had made him more jittery. What if Voldemort was in his mind and just came across it accidentally? What would they do to Hermione? What would they do to Snape? And what would that do to Hermione? Something told Harry that if Ron knew how much danger Hermione might be in, he’d never sleep soundly again.

          “Well, maybe if you just told him something.” Harry said, “Not the whole truth, but some of it.”

          “I don’t know Harry, I’ll think about it.” Hermione muttered, turning away.

          Harry focussed into his oatmeal for a moment, wondering how to word it. “Is that all that’s been bothering you, Hermione?”

          “What do you mean?”

          “I thought you might be waiting for another letter.” Harry raised his eyebrows for effect. For some reason, he was afraid to mention this other boy in Ron’s house. Even if they weren’t together, it still felt wrong.

          Hermione took a long drink of her tea. “That one’s not coming. But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like we were anything.”

          “Maybe it’s for the best, some things just aren’t meant to work out. Look at Cho and I. It’s hard to keep something up during summer when you’re apart.”

          “Hey!’ Ginny had snuck up behind them. “Dean and I are doing fine, I’ll have you know!”

          “No um, I didn’t mean you.” Harry stuttered, beginning to blush.

          “He was talking to me.” Hermione said.

          “Oh.” Ginny frowned. “Still nothing from the Ravenclaw boy?”

          “No, it’s fine though, it’s not like it ever became anything anyway.”

          “You know about him?” Harry asked.

          “We tell each other everything.” Ginny said.

          “Everything?”

          “Yes.” Hermione said.

          Harry gulped. “Did you meet him then?”

          “No.” Ginny said, “I never had the chance did I, it was just a few study dates and lunches. It’s a pity you couldn’t meet back at your family’s cabin this summer, though.”

          “What happened at your family’s cabin?” Harry asked.

          “Nothing.” The girls said in tandem.

* * *

 

          Things had been going pretty well this summer. They played quidditch a lot with the four of them, and Ron didn’t even tease Hermione much about her terrible form. They had even had a few nice days alone together, before Harry came and while Ginny was busy. They went for walks around the land, did chores around the house, they even went into town a few times together. Things were so much more relaxed with Ron. With Draco, there was so much tension, whether anger or fear or lust. But Ron and Hermione were comfortable together, when they weren’t bickering that was.

          Hermione made up her mind to tell Ron, or at least tell him a little bit. She’d wait until he next asked her what was going on, and then she would talk to him. It didn’t take long, Ron and Hermione were on their way out the door to go for a walk around the glen when Errol flew through the window and dropped a letter on Hermione’s head.

          She took the letter, this one from her Mom and Dad and put it under her mug on the counter.

          “You don’t want to read it right away?” Ron asked.

          “It’s just from my parents, I’ll read it when we get back.” Hermione said. She was afraid if they waited in the house any longer, Harry or Ginny would find them and they would no longer be going alone.

          They got out to the edge of the burrow property without being caught, and then it was home free. They made it to the woods and walked along one of the trails. Ron veered left at a fork and took her on the longer trek around, chewing on his lip. Hermione’s breath caught for a second, thinking he might kiss her, ask her to go with him, something.

          “Didn’t you just get a letter from your dad yesterday?” Ron asked, tentatively.

          This was what he was on about. Hermione’s shoulders sunk a little. “Sort of.” Hermione said, “Things have gotten complicated at home lately.”

          Ron tried to seem like he wasn’t that interested, focussing on the path they were walking ahead.

          “What’s going on?” Ron asked.

          “Well, you know my step dad’s been around, basically since I was born.” Hermione kept walking, talking slowly and as casually as she could. “And he is my dad, practically.”

          Ron nodded, “Yeah.”

          “My biological father got ahold of my mother a while ago. He wanted to get to know me.”

          Ron stopped and turned back for a second. “He kept out of your life for sixteen years, and now suddenly decided he wanted to be part of it? Sounds strange, Hermione.”

          Hermione kept walking and pushed Ron along. “It’s as much my mom’s fault as any.” Hermione said. “She didn’t exactly tell him about me when I was born. But anyway, he managed to find out eventually I guess.”

          “Oh.” Ron said.

          Hermione looked at Ron, now walking beside her. “It’s all a bit complicated. Mom’s obviously not happy about this. My dad-er-step dad amazingly doesn’t really mind him. I guess he’s not much of a threat. But he’s a nice man, and he seems sincere.”

          “You’ve met him already?” Ron asked.

          “Yeah he came for dinner this summer, and he’s been writing me letters.”

          “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Ron asked.

          “I don’t know, it was all just so strange.” Hermione said. “I mean he’s my dad, but at the same time, when I first met him he was just some stranger. He’d missed basically my entire life. I didn’t even know if I’d care.”

          “Well, thanks for telling me now, anyway.” Ron said. “Are you-going to tell Harry?”

          Hermione sighed. “It’s not like I was meaning to keep everything a secret. But with everything always going on, and everything Harry always goes through, my problems just seemed stupid compared to that.”

          “But if it’s bothering you, if it’s making you upset, Hermione, we’ll always want to know.” Ron said.

          “Alright,” Hermione said, smiling now.

          Ron smiled back at her. They turned a corner in the trail, a place Hermione remembered was the halfway mark. They were now heading back to the burrow. She didn’t know what made her do it. Maybe being with Draco had made her braver, more comfortable in her own skin. She reached out and took Ron’s hand. He flinched and pulled back, but Hermione held tight and smiled at him. His whole face turned red and he looked away from her, but he didn’t let go. They walked hand in hand all the way back to the tree line. When they were in sight of the burrow, they let go and Ron shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping further away from her for good measure.

          They spent the rest of the day playing quidditch, Hermione even having fun with it. The next day, they would be spending in Daigon Alley, and after that they’d be back to school soon. Everyone was trying to suck up as much summer fun as they could. Ron continued to be exceedingly nice all day to Hermione. They played on the same team a few times, Ron just laughing and encouraging her on when she messed something up while flying.

  
          Still, she couldn’t help thinking about Draco as she flew through the air, still a little afraid but coping better than she usually did. She just wanted to close her eyes a few times, imagine the feel of her cheek against his back, her arms around his sturdy frame. She tried to push him from her mind and focus on the game, or Ron, or the oncoming school year. Anything but the blonde.

          She managed pretty well with this, forgetting him for hours at a time when Ron and her played exploding snap, or walked around the grove near the burrow. Then suddenly it was the next day and they were rushing off to Daigon Alley, lists in hand. Hermione was by far the busiest of the group, needing the most books, quills, parchment, potions ingredients, and several other special odds and ends for her very specific class list. She was focused on a million different things, ticking everything off and following Ron’s shadow, barely looking up until they got into the robe shop. Hermione was double checking she had gotten all she needed for potions, shifting her heavy bags onto the floor to wait for the boys, when she looked up and caught Draco’s steely eyes.

          She smiled at him, barely holding back a wave. He frowned at her and she snapped back to reality, realizing she was with Ron and Harry, and Draco was with his mother. It was dangerous to bring attention to each other. Still, she thought, he didn’t need to frown. She couldn’t help noticing the paleness of his face, how tired he looked, and wonder if he was alright. Maybe he was sick and that’s why he hadn’t written. Ron groaned as he and harry noticed the boy as well.

          “In case you’re wondering what that smell is, mother, a mudblood just walked in.” * Draco said, smearing his best sneer across his face, and turning toward the trio.

          Ron and Harry both drew their wands, but Hermione just stood, staring at him. She was dumbfounded. The last time he had used that word in earnest had been in third year, and she had punched him in the face for it. All she could do now was stare back at Draco, her jaw set, her tears about to spill. She thought she saw a flash of remorse in his cold grey eyes for a second, before he turned away, but she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She turned away and focussed her eyes on the dress robes along the walls, all the way through the ensuing fight with Draco, Harry and Ron, Hermione refused to turn around. She managed to hold her tears back until they had left the shop and were down the street getting ice cream. Hermione turned away from the other boys and blocked out her sobs with the ice cream, trying to wipe at her tears unnoticed.

          “Is something wrong, Hermione?” Hagrid asked.

          “I’m fine.” Hermione wiped at her tears, refusing to turn around.

          Harry took her by the shoulders and turned her around. “What’s wrong? Is it what Malfoy said?”

          Hermione shook her head no, drying her eyes on her sleeves.

          “Forget what that git said, Hermione. You shouldn’t let the garbage he comes up with bother you.”

          “Just leave it alone, Ronald.” Hermione said coldly.

          “We’re just saying, if that’s what you’re upset about...”

          “Why do you always have to badger me about what I’m upset about?” Hermione said, “Can’t you just worry about the fact that I am upset and leave it at that?” Hermione turned to look at a window display and finish her icecream.

          “What is her problem?” Ron said, frustrated.

          “Best just leave it.” Hagrid said, urging them to continue on and stop staring at Hermione.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quote from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling. Chapter 8-Draco’s Detour.


	29. His Dark Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixth year begins and Hermione tries to find out what's wrong with Draco.

          The beginning of Hermione’s sixth year was already off to a bad start. She had been dreaming all summer of when she would get to see Draco again, feel him hold her in his arms, now it seemed that that day would never come. He had been absolutely ghastly when they had met in Daigon Alley. Hermione hoped it was just because of his mother being there, or Harry and Ron, but in her heart she knew she was being foolish.

The lack of letters, the comments, afterwards when they followed him to knockturn alley, they were all pointing toward one lonely future without Draco in her life. If that weren’t enough, she wasn’t allowed to even speak to her father about it. Severus had decided it was too dangerous for them to meet in person anymore, except for extreme, life threatening circumstances, which he begged Hermione not to put herself into this year. She sat in the carriage up to Hogwarts with Neville and Ron, trying not to look deflated. Trying not to focus on the fact that Harry had disappeared somewhere.

          She picked at her food, barely eating, which Ron didn’t even notice. She focussed on the door to the great hall, so she didn’t have to look at Draco Malfoy, or at the gaping hole where her father should be at the teacher’s table. She had a glimmering moment of relief as Luna, Harry, and Severus came through the doors. Then it all crashed as she noticed her father scowling, and Harry covered in blood.

          “What happened to your face?” Ginny asked.

          “I had a run-in with Malfoy.”

          The group all turned to look at the blonde Slytherin and Hermione couldn’t help herself. He was sitting at the table, not speaking to anyone, not eating his food either. He looked paler than usual, if that was possible, with a permanent scowl on his lips, not his usual sneer, or even the smile he had when he thought no one was looking. Even from across the room, Hermione could see the purple around his eye. It was faint, like he had tried to cover it up poorly with a spell he wasn’t very good at.

          “And you two had a fist fight?” Hermione asked, turning back to Harry.

          “The coward stunned me. He must have been too scared to duel, he stepped on my bloody face.”

          Hermione glanced at Draco again, in shock.

          “That ferret!” Ron said, “Don’t worry, Harry, we’ll get ‘em back.”

          He definitely had a black eye though. Hermione could see the bruise from across the room. Did no one else notice? Did she know his face better than them? Or did everyone else just not care?

          “I need to tell you what I heard him say on the train.” Harry recounted how Draco had bragged about some mission for the dark lord.

          Hermione was about to open her mouth and defend Draco when Ron spoke. “You can’t be serious, Harry. There’s no way he’s been chosen as a death eater, why would they want a sixteen year old?”

          Halfway through dinner, Draco got up and left. Hermione looked toward her father, but he seemed content not to make any eye contact. So, Hermione muttered something about using the washroom and slipped out behind Draco. He didn’t notice that she was behind him until they were a fair way down the hall, then Hermione shoved him through the nearest door before he could speak. It turned out to be a cupboard. Hermione lit her wand and Draco rounded on her, brandishing his own wand. He faltered when he noticed who it was, and he dropped his wand.

          “What the hell are you doing, Granger?”

          Her last name stung Hermione. “I could ask you the same thing. Breaking Harry’s nose, treating me like I’m dirt again, ignoring every message I’ve sent you on that paper, what the hell are you doing?”

          “I threw the parchment out.” Draco said, “I had no use for it anymore, just like I have no use for you. Why don’t you keep your bushy little head out of my business.” Draco made to leave. Hermione grabbed his wrist and he yanked it away from her.

          “How did you get the black eye, Draco?”

          Terror spread across his face, if only for a second, before being replaced by his scowl. Hermione raised her wand to his face and Draco grabbed her wrist. In the tussle, his shirt sleeve slid up an inch, and the top of a curving black tattoo could be seen. Hermione pulled his sleeve further up, her wand still pointed at his face. The two stared down at the dark mark on Draco’s white skin, swollen and red around the tattoo still, hot to Hermione’s touch. Draco yanked his arm away and fastened his shirt sleeve tight. When Hermione looked into Draco’s face, it was the face of a boy once again. He didn’t look like a death eater or a man, but a child on the verge of tears, trying to cover up his fear and his sadness by throwing a tantrum.

          Hermione whispered a spell and the black eye disappeared.

          “If those are the sorts of people you’re putting your trust in, you’ll need to learn better healing spells.”

* * *

 

          Severus was no help. Hermione sent a letter to him immediately, and his reply simply said for her to leave Draco alone. There was nothing she could do for him now. The next day in Defense against the Dark Arts, Hermione got to see her dad close up for the first time in months. Despite finally getting his dream job, he didn’t seem any happier about teaching, in fact he seemed more stressed than Hermione could remember ever seeing him. He ignored Hermione completely, even when she raised her hand in class, which just made Ron mock him in whispers, which just made Hermione more upset. Even more unnerving was the fact that Draco wasn’t in defense against the dark arts. Hermione wasn’t sure if he was missing class, or he simply wasn’t taking defense against the dark arts. She supposed being part of the death eaters now meant he had no need to take the class.

          After class, Hermione packed up her books slowly. She gave a slight nod to Harry who took that as his sign to take Ron out and leave Hermione with her dad. Hermione held her bag to her chest as she approached the front desk. The rest of the students were on their way out the door.

          “Professor Snape.” Hermione said quietly, “I had a question to ask you about today’s lesson.”

          Snape turned away from the blackboard. There were still other students heading off to lunch. “You always do, miss Granger, don’t you?” Snape said, forcing the deepest annoyance into his voice. One hufflepuff glanced back at the two of them, then hurried to leave.

          Hermione looked around at the few straglers. “It’s about what we were reading in chapter nine, page sixty-two, I believe. I can find it, my book is right here.”

          “I remember well enough what is in my own textbook, thank you.” Snape drawled.

          Hermione looked around again, finally everyone had left.

          “I thought I told you this was too dangerous.” Snape whispered.

          “I know about Draco.” 

          Snape stared at her, but said nothing.

          “Were you even going to tell me, or were the two of you just going to ignore me all year like I didn’t exist? You told him he couldn’t talk to me, didn’t you?”

  
          “He was smart enough to make that decision on his own.” Snape whispered.

          “You think if you just ignore me, cut me out of your life and his, I’ll just cease to be your daughter, his friend. That’s what you want isn’t it, so no one will ever know who I am.”

          “That is what I want.” Snape said.

          Hermione glared at him. Her lips shook and she began to cry, but as she thought of leaving Snape gripped her hand in his. Not soothingly, but as though letting go of her would end him.

          “Do you know why Draco joined? Because his father joined. Because when he was as old as you are now, Lucius made a stupid choice, just like I did. That choice sealed Draco’s fate before he was born, before he was even imagined. If He isn’t defeated, Draco’s children will be forced to endure the same fate as well. If they knew who you were, you would be where Draco is now. That is the best case scenario. More likely, they’d kill all of us because your mother is a muggle. That is how their world works, Hermione.”

          “So that’s it, you’re just going to abandon him to his fate? Is that what it is?”

          “There’s nothing you can do for him now, Hermione. The important thing is to keep yourself out of danger.”

          “Just because you’re good at abandoning the people you love when it gets tough, doesn’t mean I am.”

          Hermione turned and stomped out of the room.

* * *

 

          Hermione stayed in a bad mood all the way through dinner, and through most of the night too. She curled up in a large chair and refused to let either Harry or Ron copy her homework, snapping at them for even asking. They had finally given up and given Hermione a bit of space when a loud crack echoed through the air. Standing right in front of Hermione’s chair was the house elf Dobby. He wore two especially bright and mismatched socks and bowed so low his great blue eyes and his nose almost touched the floor.

          “Dobby? What are you doing here?” Harry asked, staring at the elf.

          Dobby stood up straight and smiled wide. “Mister Harry Potter sir, and Mister Weasley, and Miss Granger. Please, Dobby has been told to bring this to miss Granger, please.” Dobby passed a great big thermos and a mug to Hermione then bowed again.

          “Dobby, who is this from?” Hermione asked.

          “Please, Miss Hermione.” Dobby smiled, but looked a little worried all the same. “I was told to bring it to cheer you up.” Hermione could guess by his shifting gaze someone with power had told him to keep quiet, a professor and father no doubt. Good, Hermione thought, at least he knew he was wrong.

          Hermione set the presents aside and leaned toward Dobby. “Thank you very much, Dobby, but you do know you don’t have to do what people say just because they ask it. You are a free elf now.”

          Dobby looked even more confused now. “I was happy to do it, miss. I don’t like to hear that one of Harry Potter’s friends are sad. I was happy to.”

          “She’s very happy, Dobby, you can go now.” Harry said. Dobby disappeared with a crack and Harry sighed. “You’re just confusing him more with your S.P.E.W stuff, Hermione. Honestly.”

          Hermione rolled her eyes and unscrewed the thermos. She inhaled the smell of creamy earl grey tea, and began pouring a mug.

          “You can’t drink that!” Ron shouted. “It could be poisoned. You don’t know who sent that!”

          “I’m sure it’s fine, Ron.”

          “Unless you know who sent it, you can’t drink it.”

          “Well, I assume...” She was cut off.

          “Who’s sending you hot beverages by house elf past curfew?” Ron asked.

          The two of them stared each other down. Ron’s ears turned pinker and pinker. Hermione racked her brain as fast as she could for an excuse not involving Snape.

          “Well?” Ron asked.

          “It was me.” Harry said.

          Hermione and Ron both whirled around to face him. Hermione mouthed “thanks,” but Harry was distracted by Ron, who’s expression was quickly turning from confusion to jealousy.

          “It was both of us, really, wasn’t it Ron?” Harry gestured to Ron as well as himself.

          Ron’s face went back to confusion.

          “Remember, at dinner.” Harry looked from Hermione to Ron. “Ron said you looked more stressed out than usual and we should do something to help you relax. So I did.” Harry said.

          “Right, now I remember.” Ron said. “So, then you sent her the um...”

          “It’s earl grey tea.” Hermione said.

          “It’s a muggle thing.” Harry explained.

          “Right, that’s fine then.” Ron leaned back.

          “Thank you, both of you. I suppose I have been a little grumpy today.” Hermione said, giving a special look to Harry and drinking her tea.   


	30. A Special Birthday Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape gets a bit desperate for Hermione's birthday and gets a bit frightening.

          “Enter” Dumbledore said from his office chair. He looked up from a half unwrapped sweet in his hands. “Severus, what can I do for you tonight?”

          Severus Snape swept into the office, black cloak billowing behind him. “I cannot do it anymore, Albus.”

          Dumbledore gestured toward a chair. “What are you talking about?”

          “You know damned well what I’m talking about, your ridiculous scheme you’ve caught me up in.”

          “You promised to help me, Severus, I need you.”

          “And I need to protect my family. I made all these promises when I had nothing to lose. I can’t keep being your pawn anymore.”

          “I do regret that she has got caught up in the roles you have to play, Severus, I really do. But you agreed to help me because you wanted to insure the future would be better. You should be more devoted to that cause, not less, now that you have Herm-“

          “Don’t say her name!”

          Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles at Severus. “Are you really that paranoid?”

          “This office isn’t secure,” Severus looked around the room at the portraits, some were asleep, some were obviously faking, and one or two were staring right at him. “I have to protect her, and you don’t know who could be listening!”

          “I’m not saying don’t protect her, by all means, do everything in your power to protect her. But don’t give up on the mission.”

          Severus came closer to Dumbledore’s desk. “How did Lily do it?”

          “Severus?”

          “I know you know how she did it. Tell me!”

          “It isn’t that simple, Severus, she sacrificed herself for Harry out of love.”

          “I would do that! I would do anything!”

          “Of course you would, but unless you are literally standing between her and Voldemort, choosing to die in her place, it isn’t going to work.”

          Severus Snape closed his eyes and breathed out deeply. Then he turned on his heels and strode out of the office.

          “Severus, where are you going? Severus?”

* * *

 

          Hermione moped around Friday during her afternoon break. Saturday would be her seventeenth birthday, and a sinking feeling in her stomach told her she may very well spend it alone. Her dad still wouldn’t talk to her in person, there was no hope of seeing Draco, Ron would likely only remember it was her birthday around dinner. If she spent the day with Harry, he’d just spend it like he spent all of his time with Hermione now, moaning about how Draco is up to something, or moaning about how Severus is up to something. She’d rather spend the whole day alone than put up with any more of it. She sighed and looked up from her ancient runes textbook and noticed an owl tapping on the window. She hadn’t heard a thing. She got up and opened the window for it. It dropped a letter in Hermione’s hands, then flew off, not waiting for a reply. She hesitated, recognising her dad’s handwriting, and decided to dart up the stairs to read the letter in the dormitory alone.

          It was a tiny piece of paper, hardly a sliver. All it said was “meet me in my office 7 AM Saturday.” He hadn’t addressed it or signed it, still on his “safety in secrecy” obsession. Still, it lifted her spirits to know he was willing to take the risk to see her on her birthday.

          “Be careful.” Harry said when she told him later that night.

          “Of what?”

          “I don’t know, he might be up to something.”

          “For the zillionth time, Harry...”

          “Why are you going so early? It must be something he doesn’t want anyone else to know about, something-where are you going?”

          Hermione had stood up and turned her back on Harry. “Just shut up, Harry. He’s my Dad. My Dad wants to see me on my birthday and you turn it into some doomsday plot. Just stop it!” With that, she stormed out of the room.

* * *

 

          She couldn’t get Harry’s worries out of her head the next morning when she made her way down to the dungeons. The circumstances were a little abnormal, yes, but their relationship had never been quite normal. And now with Snape’s paranoia on overdrive, it wasn’t that hard to believe he’d drag her out of bed this early just to avoid being seen. Entering Snape’s office gave her no reassurances. The lights were all turned off, and there were no windows. Instead, there were dozens of huge pillared candles about the room casting an eerie red glow around the room. All his usual things, his desk, chair, scrolls of homework to mark, had all been moved and replaced with one tall round sidetable in the middle of the room, where Severus was hunched over now. He looked up as she entered and barely acknowledged her, engrossed in the magic he was doing. She closed the door and approached the small table, where a huge stone basin sat. Snape was swirling a viscous red liquid with his wand, concentrating and mumbling incantations under his breath. The red liquid splashed a little, but never left the bowl.

          “Is that blood?” Hermione whispered. Severus made no move to answer her. “Dad, what’s going on?”

          Severus stopped his incantations and looked to Hermione. She saw something in his eyes then. Determination and a force she had never seen before. He took Hermione’s hand in his and she saw a wide gash across his palm, still oozing blood. Hermione tried to pull her hand away but he held strong. He lifted his wand from the bowl, blood still dripping off of it.

          “Daddy, you’re scaring me.” Hermione tried to pull away again.

          Snape touched his wand point to Hermione’s hand. It cut into her, not deeply, but droplets of blood blossomed on her skin. Snape turned her hand over the bowl and held it there firmly. As the blood dripped into the bowl, the liquid began to swirl and Snape began to chant.

          “Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, the bonds are strong, the strength is next.”

          Severus let go of Hermione’s hand now and she held it to her chest. “What are you doing? Blood magic is illegal! It’s banned!” Hermione wanted to run away, or back into the wall at least, but some part of her curiosity held her there.

          The liquid was swirling faster and faster, it was collecting in the middle, forming a dense ball floating in the middle of the bowl. Soon, the motion stopped and a red stone fell into the bowl. Snape took the stone and dropped it into Hermione’s hand. She flinched, expecting something, but it felt cool to the touch, normal. It was small and teardrop shaped, smooth as a pebble, but the colour and shine of a ruby. She felt entranced by the stone, somehow calmed just by looking at it.

          Hermione was so distracted, she missed Snape raising his wand toward her. She only looked up when he shouted “stupefy.”

          Hermione went flying across the room, her back slammed into the opposite wall and she fell to the floor, her hands still clutched around the stone.

          Snape rushed to her, leant and took her face in both of his hands. “How do you feel?”

          Hermione looked into his eyes, brow knit. “I didn’t feel a thing.”

          Severus smiled, stood and turned on the lights. Hermione stood up too, shaky more out of bewilderment than from the flight across the room. She hadn’t felt anything: not the spell, not the wall, not crashing to the floor. She touched the back of her head. No blood, not even a bruise. Severus took her hand in his, the one he had cut open earlier. She had forgotten about it, the cut didn’t seem to hurt much either. She opened her hand to reveal the blood stone, and the cut which was already healing. It had been a shallow cut, not much deeper than a bad paper cut, but this was ridiculous. Severus healed Hermione’s hand fully with his wand, then healed his own gash, much deeper. The majority of the blood in the ritual must have been his.

          “Blood magic is illegal.” Hermione said.

          “There are many kinds of magic, Hermione. Yes, you-know-who used it to create an unbreakable bond between himself and his followers, and it can be extremely powerful, but that doesn’t make it evil, only someone’s intentions can be evil. But after the war, the ministry put a blanket law over all blood magic, like they did with many things loosely rooted to you-know-who. What you hold there is different, it is ancient clan magic from Scotland. The difference is that we already share a bond, you are the blood of my blood. And there is no deeper natural drive than to protect one’s own kin.”

          “Should I hide it? Would the ministry arrest me if they found it?”

          “I doubt any of them would recognise what it is, or care. Ministry officials are often short sighted, or choose to look the other way if no damage is being done.”

          “It will protect me?” Hermione asked.

          “So long as it is physically with you. I don’t know how much it can protect you from, not the killing curse, and stronger spells it may just deflect partially. It’s the best I could do, though.” Severus took the stone from her and laid it back on the table in the middle of the room. With his wand he attached it to a thin silver chain. Then he took a sealed letter from his pocket and cast a spell that made the letter dissolve into the stone, like it was being poured into the stone. The jewel glowed crimson for a few moments, then lay still again. Severus picked it up and clasped the chain around Hermione’s neck.

          “What was that you put into the stone?”

          “Some things you will need when the time comes.”

          “How will I know when the time comes?”

          “It will know.” Severus said. “I want you to keep this on you at all times, even when asleep, even in the shower, it won’t be harmed by anything, and it cannot harm you. But you never know when you could get into trouble.”

* * *

 

          Hermione was sitting in the common room with Ron. She had just unwrapped the leather-bound day planner he had gotten her and set it next to Harry’s usual pile of sweets and chocolates, as well as Mrs. Weasley’s usual sweater, this year in chartreuse.

          “Do you like it?”

          “It’s wonderful, Ron. I keep magically adding new pages to my old one, but it’s getting rather tattered.”

          “It’s supposed to warn you too, if you’ve missed something to do that day.” Ron smiled. “Not that that would ever happen to you.”

          Ron had been flummoxed for a week trying to get the right present. He didn’t want to get her the usual best friend, not thinking gift like Harry, but he wasn’t ready for Ginny’s suggestion of jewellery or a candle-lit dinner or anything. It’s not like they were dating. He had thought about books she might want to read, but she always seemed to own everything. Her mom had bought her a new quill at the start of the year. Her potions instruments were getting a bit dingy, but she’d probably be touchy on the subject after Harry’s performance with the Hald-Blood Prince’s book. Then, Wednesday, she tried to pencil in when she thought their pop quizzes would be, and half a dozen pages fell out and she spent 20 minutes trying to magic them back in.

          “It’s beautiful, Ron, thanks so much.” Hermione giggled and played with her necklace and Ron began to blush.

          Around her neck was a new silver chain with what looked like a large ruby. She stroked its smooth surface and Ron realized he’d never seen it before. His stomach turned but he tried to act casual. Ginny was right, he should have bought her something else. Is that what she meant, had Hermione told his little sister about some other boy who was chasing after her? By the look of it, he was rich, and Ron couldn’t have ever afforded something like that anyway.

          As calmly as he could, Ron asked, “That’s new, was it a present too?”

          “Oh, yeah.” Hermione smiled. “My Dad got it for me.”

          Ron smiled. “That’s great. It’s good to hear things between you two are working out well.”

          “Yep.” Hermione held the jewel out. “I mean it’s not real or anything, but it’s pretty, and he didn’t have to get me anything so that was nice.”

          “Beautiful.” Ron said, staring at Hermione. He reached out and touched the necklace, their fingers brushing each others. His smile faltered. The moment his skin touched the gem, he felt awkward, unwanted, like he shouldn’t be touching Hermione like that, he shouldn’t be anywhere near her at all.

          His hand dropped. “We should get back to studying, I guess.” Ron said, sliding to the opposite end of the couch. He took up his parchment and quill and pretended to be immersed in his work. In a few minutes, Harry rejoined them and sat between the two.


	31. Lies

          Hermione only saw Draco occasionally during classes, or as they passed in the hall. He never spoke to her, he never even made eye contact with her. She sat night after night at the Gryffindor table watching him sit across the hall, avoiding her. Avoiding everyone, it seemed. He rarely seemed to look up or speak to the other slytherins, too focussed on his food. But Hermione noticed he didn’t eat much either. He was becoming paler, thinner, and he was always itching at his arm. He had even given up scowling, apparently too much work, and settled for a simple frown.

          She didn’t care what Snape said, she couldn’t just let him keep on like this. He looked like he was in physical pain some days, scratching at his arm like he had dragon pocks, then someone would say something and his face would go flush and he would stop itching, only long enough for them to stop paying attention to him again.

          With all of Hermione’s study skills, finding the right potion took no time at all, and with so many years of sucking up to the teachers, buttering Slughorn up took no time at all. Hermione couldn’t help thanking heaven that her dad had finally gotten his dream job, because he’d have never let her get away with this crap. Thanks also to Harry’s hatred of Slughorn, she was able to sneak up on the teacher alone after one of their dinners without Harry getting wind of it.

          “Can I help you with those, professor?” Hermione asked, taking several empty bottles from Slughorn and carrying them over to the recycling.

          “Thank you my dear, it’s a rare thing for a teenager to help clean up without expecting something in return.”

          Hermione blushed. “Actually professor, I did have a bit of a favor to ask, if it’s alright.”

          Slughorn laughed, “My dear girl, ask away.”

  
          “I was wondering if I would be able to use the potions lab some evening for a little extra curricular work, under your supervision of course.” Hermione glinted her best innocent charming smile his way.

          Slughorn frowned. “The curriculum is chosen for optimum learning potential with the least amount of personal use, shall we say, out of the end result. Perhaps my examples at the start of term were a little too tempting...”

          “No, it’s nothing like that.” Hermione said, “But getting into our NEWTs has made me think about what I want to do with my future, if I want to be an Auror or a Healer or a professor at Hogwarts.” Hermione said this all very quickly, pausing a little to emphasise the last option. “Anyway, I talked a lot to Professor Madeye when he worked here about auror work, but I haven’t made up my mind. And I was talking to Madame Pomfrey the other day about healing but she said making healing potions was nothing like the potions we make in class and, well, I’m just afraid I’ll try to be a healer but when I get out into the real world, I won’t be as good at those potions as I am in class, and when I was talking to her she mentioned a few potions that are pretty typical of the different skills I’ll need, so I was thinking.” Hermione barely stopped her rant to pull a book out of her bag, flipped to the right page and passed it to Slughorn. This was Hermione’s final tactic. Bewilder them with too many words, then try to make them read and listen at the same time, while you ask for permission. It nearly always worked. “See, it’s just an ointment for magical burns and lesions, so it couldn’t do any harm, and I figured if it’s good enough Madame Pomfrey can add it to her stocks, and all the ingredients are already in the classroom, and it should only take a few hours so I won’t take up much of your time, I know you’re so busy. It would just mean so much to me Professor, and I knew you’d be the best person to help me, Please?”

          “Yes, of course, my dear.” Slughorn stumbled over his words, still trying to read the potion instructions.

          “Thank you, professor, you have no idea how much this means to me. Shall we say tomorrow evening after dinner?”

          “What?” Slughorn looked up from the book. “Yes, tomorrow night in the potions lab.” He handed Hermione’s book back to her.

          Hermione smiled and turned on her heel to leave the flummoxed teacher alone. Like taking candy from a flobberworm.

* * *

 

          The next night, everything went smoothly. Hermione was happy she had asked Slughorn to watch over her at least. The instructions were very specific and a little tricky. He helped her through a few stumbling moments, and by nine o’clock she had stoppered a medium bottle of the salve, Slughorn still none the wiser of what her real plan was. She took the bottle with her, telling her professor she wanted to show Madame Pomfrey how well she had done. He agreed whole heartedly, it’s not as though she could do any harm with a healing potion.

          By nine-thirty, she had slipped into her quietest, comfortable clothes – sweatpants and a black hoodie – and was waiting in the common room with the bottle and her wand securely in her pocket, and waited. When Neville had finally come down to the common room with a textbook, she counted to make sure all sixth year boys were downstairs. While Harry and Ron were thoroughly engrossed in a game of wizard chess, she yawned quite loudly and announced she was off to bed.

          “’night” her two friends called, not looking up from the board.

          She climbed up the stairs rather noisily, so everyone heard her. She opened the girls’ door with a creak, then closed it rather loudly. Then she turned and tiptoed across the hall and opened the boy’s dorm room slowly. She snuck into the room and closed the door behind herself, her heart pounding. She had snuck around plenty in her time at Hogwarts, but she had never done it against Ron and Harry. She opened Harry’s chest at the foot of his bed and hastily took his invisibility cloak out, throwing it over herself as she searched for the Marauders’ map. When she had shoved the old bit of parchment into her pocket, she scribbled a hasty note and put it ontop of Harry’s pile of junk. “Don’t panic, just visiting dad. I knew you’d disapproved if I asked. Sorry. Back with it soon.”

          With the note in place, she closed the lid and slid back out of the boys’ room, this time invisible. She had to wait again in the common room, people quickly beginning to file off to bed. Finally, when the common room was nearly empty, a Gryffindor came through the porthole and Hermione could sneak past without being seen. It was fifteen minutes to curfew and Hermione had to rush to find Draco on the map, deep in the dungeons, then took off at the quickest speed she could muster. She took off her shoes in an alcove on the way, afraid her shoes would make too much noise.

          She sped the rest of the way sock-footed and made it just in time. She couldn’t see the porthole to the Slytherin common room, but a group of five or six seventh years were walking in front of her, no doubt waiting for the last second till curfew to go to bed. She slipped easily in behind such a large group and followed them into the common room. The whole place had an eerie dark glow, one huge glass window looking directly into the pits of the black lake. It was mostly pitch black now, with just the faintest outlines of seaweed moving with the ebb. There was also a fireplace, which the seventh years sat around, made out of great black marble slabs. Like in Gryffindor, most of the students had already found their way to bed.

          Hermione crept a ways away from these other students and studied the map under a green stained-glass lamp. Draco was already in his bed it seemed. The dormitory was down the staircase, sixth door on the left. His bed was three down on the right. She memorized his location and watched for a moment to see his name would not move. Then she tucked the map away, she would have to do the rest in the dark now, so she wouldn’t wake up anyone else.

          Hermione descended silently in her sock feet, careful not to slip on the dark hardwood. Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness as it enveloped her the further from the common room she crept. She pulled out her wand as she approached the sixth year boys’ dorm, not sure what she would find inside. Luckily, the hallway was almost pitch black, and when she turned the doorknob and opened the door a crack, she found the inside just as pitch black. Silently casting the mufliato charm before she had even fully entered the dorm, she was now able to close the door and walk to Draco’s bed without being heard.

          She peeked into the curtains of the four poster bed to make sure that it was indeed Draco. He seemed to be shivering, the blankets pulled nearly up to his neck. His platinum blond head laid on his pillow, eyes closed, breathing deeply. It was definitely him. Hermione silently released the mufliato charm around his bed, so no one else would be able to hear them. She crept, ever so slightly, onto his bed, careful not to kneel on him. She was hoping she could do this without ever waking him up, he looked so uncomfortable, even in his sleep, she didn’t want to also deprive him of what little sleep he got. Although the rest of his body seemed to be too cold, Draco’s left arm was sticking out of the blankets obviously too hot. Hermoine could see the dark mark emblazoned on his flesh, black, and it seemed inflamed, the skin red around its edges. She could feel the heat emanating off of his arm. Her fingers grazed the black snake and Draco’s body spasmed into life. His free hand latched onto her wrist, the other reaching for his wand. But Hermione was just as fast as he was. She leaned in and covered his mouth with her second hand. “It’s me.” She whispered in his ear. Slowly, he let her go and Hermione reached up and took the invisibility cloak from around her face.

          He looked terrified, pissed off, confused, he looked around trying to see the other slytherin boys through his curtains.

          “They can’t hear us.” Hermione whispered.

          “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Draco whispered, menace in his voice.

          “I’m trying to help you.” Hermione pulled out the potion bottle and shook out some of the ointment onto her fingers. It felt icy to her touch. She gently took Draco’s wrist and pulled his arm toward her.

          “Leave it.” Draco said.

          But he didn’t pull his arm back. Her touch felt so gentle, so cool on his burning skin. She rubbed the ointment into his skin and Draco sighed. She felt the raised mark on his usually smooth skin. Hermione looked at Draco. His eyes were closed and his arm had loosened up, but he still looked hurt. He had sat up in bed and the blankets had now fallen off of his bare chest. Hermione could see he was pale everywhere, and he had been losing weight. Where before she could see muscle, now there was just the outline of his ribcage.

          “Get out.” He whispered.

          Hermione let go of his arm, looking hurt.

          “Don’t you get it, you stupid girl?” Draco’s silver eyes stared into Hermione’s. “You aren’t safe around me. I’m trying to protect you.”

          He was trying to seem frightening, but Hermione could see it again. That little boy trying to hide in a man’s skin.

          “It seems to me you’re the one who needs protecting.” Hermione moved closer and kissed Draco on the forehead. She put the potion bottle in his hand. “Three times a day. And eat something, alright?”

          Draco wrapped his thin fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her into him again. Their foreheads leaned against one another and Draco sat for a minute, just breathing her in.

          “I know you want me to be safe,” Hermione whispered, “But I want you to be safe too, okay?”

          Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips to her. It was a soft kiss, hardly there. Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione, and Hermione leaned into his bare chest, stroking his hair. He just wanted to be held, to weep in her lap and cuddle in bed until the sun rose. He tried to pull her as close as he could, but no matter what, he couldn’t get rid of the hollow black pit between them. He had to wake up in the morning and find a way to become a murderer. Finally, he began to understand what Snape had told him. Hermione was the bright light at the end of his tunnel, but being together meant dragging her into that black tunnel with him. He kissed her one last time, and let his arms fall.

          “You need to go. You can’t see me again.” Draco said.

          Hermione stroked Draco’s cheek. “Promise me you’ll stay safe. Whatever they’ve made you – whatever you’re doing, stay safe for me. Then I’ll leave you alone.”   

          Draco took her hand from his cheek and kissed her palm. “I promise.”

          Hermione kissed him once more, then untwined their fingers and slipped the invisibility cloak back over her head.

          She slipped off of Draco’s bed and Draco followed. He padded barefoot across the dormitory and opened the door, slipping into the hall. Hermione followed close behind him, the barefooted boy, wearing only his pajama pants. He slipped into the common room and Hermione pulled closer to him as two seventh year boys turned from the fireplace to look at Draco.

          “You should be asleep.” They said.

          “I thought I heard something.” Draco said. He walked to the portrait hole and opened it. He stepped out and pretended to look around for some disturbance while Hermione, still invisible, slipped out behind him.

          “Anything there?”

          “No, I must have been dreaming.” Draco slipped back into the common room and let the portrait close.

          Hermione slipped down the hallway, found her shoes where she left them, and slipped as silently as she could back up to Gryffindor tower.

* * *

          Ron was still sitting up by the fire, brooding and grumbling under his breath. Harry had slipped off somewhere without him again. They were supposed to be best friends, but Harry was always leaving him out of things. Ron stayed scowling as the fire turned to ash and embers. Everyone had gone to bed long ago, but Harry was still not back. The portrait creaked open and Ron turned around to see nothing, just as he expected.

          “Take that stupid thing off, Harry!” Ron rounded on the doorway.

          Slowly, Hermione pulled the invisibility cloak off, blushing. “Ron, I thought you’d be in bed.”

          “Where’s Harry?”

          “He’s not with me.” Hermione said.

          “Where were you then, if you weren’t with him?”

          Hermione stared at Ron. He’d stood up and moved closer to her, looking angry. “I was in the library.”

          “It’s after curfew. Besides, I watched you go to bed.”

          “Well, I wasn’t able to sleep. So I got up and borrowed Harry’s cloak and went to the restricted section. I was going to look up something there weeks ago.” Hermione said, staring at the floor. Her lies were beginning to fall short, especially on Ron.

          “Where’s Harry then?” Ron crossed his arms.

          Hermione pulled the marauder’s map from her pocket and opened it to see Harry not far from them, heading back to the tower. “Looks like he’s on his way.” Hermione didn’t want to wait around for that argument. “Here, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” Hermione handed the cloak and the map to Ron then ran up the stairs before Harry got there.

          Ron rounded on Harry as soon as he entered, red in the face.

          “What did I do?” Harry asked.

          “It’s one thing you two being together, but the least you could have done is tell me, not sneak about behind my back.”

          “What are you talking about?” Harry sat down on the couch.

          “You and Hermione! I know you two were together tonight.”

          Harry’s eyes widened as he turned to Ron. “We were what?”

          “She brought your cloak and map back.” Ron threw it into Harry’s lap and began to pace.

          “Ron, that’s why I went to find her. She took them leaving some vague note about where she went, so I went to find her.”

          “Where was she?”

          “Well,” Harry said, weighing if he should tell Ron about the note to see her Dad, or about not being with Snape and where Harry assumed she had gone. It was Hermione’s secret after all. He couldn’t tell his friend nothing though. Harry decided on the least dangerous of the two secrets.

          “I think she was visiting a friend from another house. I went to where she said she would be, but she wasn’t there, then I spotted her shoes in an alcove near one of the other house common rooms.” Harry said.

          “What friend?” Ron was scowling.

          “She’s just been studying with some boy from Ravenclaw.” Harry tried to say it as casually as he could.

          “What is she doing that for, she studies with us.” Ron wasn’t getting any less angry.

          “We study with her, Ron. But Hermione doesn’t have anyone to help her if she doesn’t understand something.”

          Ron shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, why didn’t she tell me about this bloke?”

          “I’m sure it just slipped her mind.”

          “She been seeing him long?”

          Harry tried to look away, but Ron gave him such an angry look. “Since last year I think. But only occasionally, finals and stuff.”

          Ron turned his back to Harry, glaring into the fire place.

          “Ron, are you mad at her?”

          “Why should I care?” Ron snapped, “She can do whatever she wants.”


	32. Allegiance Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Hermione's fight spirals out of control when he kisses Lavender and Hermione falls into Draco's lap

Ron wasn’t talking to Hermione any more, not even enough to say what she had done. She assumed it must have something to do with the week before, visiting Draco. She had tried to ask Harry what he had told Ron, but that just started another row with Harry. Why had she been lying, what had she been doing? He knew she wasn’t with her dad.

“At least you’ve stopped seeing him as much, I should be grateful.” Harry had said.

And so they had another fight. And so her week went, right up to the quidditch match. She had half a mind to skip the whole match, as neither Harry nor Ron seemed to want her there. But Ginny had made her promise to come. So she sat in the stands next to Neville, still annoyed. She listened to Lavender cheer Ron on much too enthusiastically, and tried not to focus on Draco missing the game.

The game went well, and as Gryffindor won and the flurry of cheers erupted, Hermione got dragged with the rest of the group to the common room for a party. Hermione wasn’t big on parties, or on quidditch for the most part. She stuck to the edges of the room, congratulating the players, she hugged Harry and Ginny and snacked a little, then went to find Ron to talk. Maybe he would be in a better mood after winning the match, she thought. Apparently, he was in too good of a mood. As Hermione rounded the corner, she found him locked tightly and quite publicly to the mouth of Lavender Brown.

Hermione was out the door and down the hall before she knew what had happened. Her heart was pounding in her throat, her eyes were blurred from tears. She physically hurt. She continued to walk down the hall, trying to hold in her tears, trying to repeat to herself , “Ron isn’t mine, we were never together, I have no reason to be mad.”

She walked down the stairwells, avoiding the great hall and the busier parts of the castle, trying to make it to the only place she could think of being at the moment. She was going to find her dad. She made it down the last narrow stairway to his office, where he usually was and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so Hermione knocked again. She turned the handle but the door was locked. She pressed her ear to the door and thought she could hear him inside, but Snape never answered, even after she called to him. Finally, Hermione slunk away defeated. She began to sniffle and cry again, not knowing who to turn to now. She passed the potions lab just in case, but Severus wasn’t there either. It was the first time in months she had really needed him to be there, and even when it was an emergency, he still couldn’t be found.

Hermione continued up the stairs, wiping at her eyes and trying to breathe evenly. She didn’t notice the group of slytherin boys coming down the stairs until they were around her, pushing her and laughing.

“Did the ickle Gryffindor get lost?” One boy jeered

“Careful, you’ll make her cry.” The tallest laughed.

“She’s already been crying.” A third boy elbowed her.

“Piss off!” Hermione bellowed and shoved them off.

            She ran past them up the stairs, back near the Gryffindor common room. She debated going back inside, paced outside the portrait hole as the fat lady stared at her. Hermione wiped at her eyes again and tried to catch her breath.

            “How do I look?” She asked with a sigh to the portrait.

            “Like you were crying and running a marathon at the same time.” The woman said.

            “Gee, thanks.”

            Hermione shuffled back down the hallway. She couldn’t go back in there looking like such a wreck. Instead, Hermione opened the closest classroom door in hopes of sitting for a rest.

            “Do you mind?” Lavender squalked from underneath Ron, balanced on the professor’s desk.

“Hermione?”

Hermione was out before Ron had a chance to clamour off the desk. She was down the hall and running up flight after flight of stairs. She thought she could hear someone coming after her, but her heart was beating so quickly, her sobs were coming out uncontrollably now. She ran faster, the last thing she wanted was for Ron to catch up to her and try to apologize only to realize with his usual grace that he was entirely flummoxed. She didn’t know where she was trying to get to, couldn’t remember what stair case she was on, or where it led. She wanted to climb it forever, past the ceiling, past the stars. She wanted to go back to loch cottage, in her own room with the butterflies on the walls. She wanted to escape from her friends, from the upcoming war, from the whole damned world.

She ended up at a dead end, in front of the door to the astronomy tower. She stood for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She’d given up wiping away the tears now. She needed to calm down and think. It wasn’t like Ron was hers, they weren’t dating, it wasn’t like she hadn’t spent the whole last year kissing some other boy. But she wasn’t with Draco, either.

“Hermione, where are you?” Ron’s voice echoed up the stone staircase.

Hermione grabbed the door handle and twisted. It was locked and automatically, she said alohamora and unlocked it. She scrambled into the astronomy tower just as she heard Ron’s footsteps and locked the door again. He never remembered how to lock or unlock doors anyway. If he did, she might not be in this state.

With the door securely locked, Hermione turned toward the rest of the tower. She realized why it had been locked. Against the back stone wall, Draco was hunched up, red eyed, and looking irate.

“You came looking for me again, after I told you to leave me alone? I don’t need your help or your charity Granger, so get out!”

Hermione reached for the door knob again, but then she heard the sound of footsteps.

“Hermione, blimey, just come out and talk.” Ron shouted. “I’m not going to run around looking for you all night.” There was a moment of silence as Hermione didn’t answer. “Whatever, this is all your fault any way, not mine. I’m going back down to Lavender.” Ron called.

Hermione listened as his footsteps died away. She leaned her head against the cold wood door and began to sob again.

“Are you alright?” Draco’s voice came from the corner, quieter this time.

Hermione shook her head no.

“You can’t stay here, you should go talk to Harry, or your dad or something.”

That was the last straw. Hermione rounded on Draco. “Go here, go there, I’m tired of everyone ordering me around and no one caring about what I think! Harry’s too busy with Voldemort, and the upcoming war, and what you and Snape are doing, he hasn’t done anything but bitch at me for months. My dad’s too worried about getting caught, he won’t even speak to me anymore. Mom and Dad don’t understand a god damned think going on in this world and just tell me not to worry. You’ve been moping about, doing god knows what, pretending like you’re the only one in the world with a problem. Everyone keeps saying they care about me, but has anyone even bothered to ask if I’m okay? Well guess what, I’m not!” She turned and fumbled to unlock the door and wipe at her tears.

“Come here.” Draco said.

Hermione turned back to look at him. His usually shining hair looked flat and messy. His white shirt was stained with sweat and dirt, rolled up to his elbows, not caring if she could see his mark. His eyes looked as red as she assumed hers were. He held out his arms, and she climbed into his lap, arms around his neck, wiping her tears on his shirt.

“You love him, don’t you?” Draco whispered, brushing Hermione’s hair.

“Not anymore,” Hermione sniffled, “I won’t ever love him again.”

“I tried to stop loving someone once.”

Hermione sat up, “Did it work.”

Draco looked into her eyes and ran his fingers through her curls. “No, not really.”

Hermione sighed and laid her head back on Draco’s shoulder.

“You need to leave, Hermione.” Draco whispered. “The things they’re making me do, they’re…and if they knew you were here with me…”

“If they knew, they’d be in the school, and we’d all be doomed anyway.” Hermione said.

“But…”

“We could support each other, Draco, keep each other company. I think we could both use that.”

Draco chewed his lip. “Alright, but on one condition. You can’t know what I’m doing, it’s too dangerous. You can’t ask any questions about what they’re planning. And you can’t tell me anything about what Potter or the Order are doing. I know they’re planning something, and I don’t want to know what.”

Hermione smiled a little. “It will be like a sanctuary. When we’re together, we’ll pretend everything else in the world doesn’t exist.”


	33. The Astronomy Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a quick fluffy chapter about Hermione and Draco chatting in the tower.

Hermione pulled a huge, dusty book out of her bag and set it down on her lap.

          “I found something in the library the other day I wanted to show you.”

          “Of course you did.” Draco said.

          He was staring out the astronomy window, watching the sun sink on the horizon. He’d spent the day dodging classes and skipping dinner, spending his day in the room of hidden things instead. Hermione met him in the tower after dinner, like she often did now, and had smuggled him some cold turkey from dinner.

          “Come here,” Hermione said.

          Draco sighed and took a seat next to Hermione and her gigantic book. She flipped through the thin pages with tiny print on them, an anthology of magical court cases in the last century.

          “Here.” Hermione put her finger down. “Mr. Nathaniel R. Courgette. He was a well-known politician and lawyer at the time. He joined the Death Eaters at the beginning of the last war, a sought-after addition to His team. At the end of the war, he was let off of pretty much all charges because of this.” Hermione pointed at the page.

          “What is it?”

          “It’s a letter of admittance he wrote before the war. It says that he was forced to join the Death Eaters with threats they would kill his family. In the letter, he pledges to stay true to the ministry as long as he can while still protecting his family. He promises not to kill anyone, or to send any important information to the Death Eaters. He then had it signed by the minister for magical defense, who was a close friend and aware of the situation, and by another friend who was also recruited, and later died for not cooperating.”

          “How’s that supposed to help me?” Draco asked.

          “Write a letter. Explain you had to join or they’d kill you and your mum. Promise not to hurt anyone, or anything.”

          Draco turned white. “But he had important people sign it, allies on the ministry’s side. No one’s going to believe just me.”

          “I’ll sign it.” Hermione said.

          “What?”

          “A muggle born you’re close to, who believes in you, that will look good on paper. Plus, if there is a war, I’ll be on the front lines next to Harry. I’m already trusted in some important groups. It will work.”

          “What do you mean you’ll be on the front lines, I thought you’d go into hiding or something.”

          Hermione laughed. “Of course not, I’m going to fight with Harry and The Order.”

          Draco sat back. “You’d really sign a confession for me?”

          “Of course, I believe in you.” Hermione smiled.

          Draco stood up and went back to the window. “I thought we said we weren’t going to talk about this stuff?”

          “Sorry, I just want to help.”

          “I know, but I just want to forget about it.”

          “Isn’t there any way you can get out of whatever they’re making you do? You’re still just a kid. You can’t even do magic outside of Hogwarts yet.”

          “Please, drop it.”

          Hermione stood up and went to Draco at the window. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and together they stood looking out the window.

          “What are you doing for Christmas?” Hermione asked.

          “I think I’m staying here, I don’t know yet. Something might come up that means I’ll be at the manor. But for now, I’m staying here. You? I’m assuming you aren’t going to the burrow anymore.”

          “No, I’m going home to see Mom and Dad. I’m hoping Dad will stop by for a bit as well, but I don’t want to keep my hopes up. He hasn’t said anything.”

          Hermione leaned against Draco’s chest and he hugged her tighter.

          “There you are again.” She pointed out the window at the stars, the constellation Draco shining in front of them.

          Draco chuckled. “Do you remember that night? It feels like lifetimes away now. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if you had been with your dad as a child. We’d have grown up together, I guess. Being your dad’s God Son.”

          Hermione turned around and hugged Draco. “You’d have been like the brother I never had.”

          Draco stroked her hair. “Probably for the best. You’d be stuck in the same mess I am.”

          Hermione stroked Draco’s cheek. She could feel his stubble starting to grow, he’d been too busy to shave.

          “Are you going to Slughorn’s Christmas party?” she asked.

          “No. I don’t think he wants to be seen meeting with my sort. I suppose you’re going with Harry.”

          Hermione sighed and leaned against the window. “I took a page from your book. I’m being a bit of a brat to get some attention.”

          “I don’t do that.” Draco said.

          Hermione raised her eyebrows.

          “Still trying to piss off Weasley?”

          “Well yes, and also my Dad, and Harry a bit.”

          “Who’d you ask.”

          “Cormac McLagen.”

          Draco laughed.

          “I know.”

          “You know, if you really wanted to piss everyone off you could have asked me.”

          “Really, I was sure you’d say no. Secrecy and protection and all that.”

          “I know. But McLagen? Really?”

          “Shut up.”


	34. A Sluggish Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to Slughorn's party and Draco tries to crash it.

          Everything started out going Hermione’s way. The look on Ron’s face as he unsucktioned from lavender was absolutely priceless. Severus was so mad when McLagen arrived with his arm around Hermione that he actually cornered her near the punch to secretly scold her. It was the first time he’d spoken to her in weeks. And Harry spent the whole night hovering around her like a big brother, paying her more attention than he had, possibly all year without shouting. But what Hermione hadn’t counted on was just how clingy McLagen would get. Even with Harry watching, he kept trying to hold her hand, lead her around with his arm around her, catch her under the mistletoe. Finally, she began ducking in and out of the curtains, drumming up conversations with everyone, including the vampire, and still he kept on coming.

          “I was thinking,” He kept inching closer, “We could find a quiet corner and-“

          “I have to go to the bathroom.” Hermione declared, much too loudly.

          She pulled her body away from his and swept out of the room, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wouldn’t follow. She went into the hall, toward the bathroom, around a corner, and sighed against the wall. The night was becoming more of a hastle than it was probably worth. Maybe Draco had been right, she could have gone with him, created an uproar, and probably had managed to have a good time too. But he was right, as usual, it was too dangerous. Someone grabbed Hermione’s arm from behind and she instinctively reeled back.

          “I just came out to – oh, Draco, it’s you. I thought you were McLagen.”

          Draco had sneaked down the hall out of nowhere, not making a sound. “Is he bothering you?” Draco’s eyebrows raised, real concern behind his smirk.

          “Don’t worry, as you can see I’ve already escaped. Harry will probably be out here soon though. He’s been lurking around me more than you.”

          “I’m not lurking.” Draco mumbled. He leaned in and whispered into Hermione’s ear “Meet me tomorrow morning before the train, day break, room of requirements. That’s all I came to say.”

          “Alright, is that all?” Hermione smiled up at Draco.

          “And you look beautiful.”

          Hermione blushed and looked down at her shoes. When she looked up, Draco had drifted back into the shadows of the corridor, his footfalls barely audible.

          Hermione made it back to the party quickly, hushing Harry’s questions up with the same excuse of the bathroom. She tried to look busy and uninterested when minutes later Filch dragged Draco into the party by his collar, and the boy was dragged out again by her father. Snape made several glowering looks in her direction as he did so, but Hermione tried her best to ignore these too. Luckily Harry’s brain was jetting in a completely different direction that had nothing to do with her. He sneaked out shortly after Snape and slid down the dark hallway after the men.

          “You’re acting foolishly, Draco. You’re acting like a child. You’ll be caught if you keep it up, you’ve gotten close to being caught already.”

          Draco snorted. “What’s it to you? You don’t care about me. You don’t care about anyone.”

          Snape pressed his arm against the wall, pinning draco.

          “Hold your tongue, you know that isn’t true. I made the unbreakable vow for you.”

          “And a lot of good that did for the two of us, wasn’t it?”

          “Is that why you were here tonight? You two-”

          “It’s none of your business what I was doing.”

          “It damned well is, I told you to stay away.”

          “You think you get a say in this? After what you’ve done – the lies? You abandoned –“ Draco’s face scrunched up in anger. “You are nothing anymore. You’re just one of my father’s lackeys now. You don’t get to judge us, you don’t get to tell me what to do, and you don’t get to go anywhere near her!”

          Snape grabbed at Draco’s wrist as he stormed off, but Draco pulled his arm away.

          “Insolent boy!” Snape shouted.

          “Piss off!”


	35. The Memory Chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gives Hermione an early Christmas present of sorts.

          Hermione slipped out of bed well before daybreak and tucked the last of the belongings she’d need for Christmas into her duffle bag, just in case her time with Draco took all morning. She enjoyed waking up this early sometimes, working in quiet solitude as everyone else slept. She showered and changed into her favorite jeans and a green sweater. She brushed her hair while listening to her mp3 player, one of the comforts from home she dragged out when no classmates were around to explain herself to. She fixed the hair clip Snape had given her years ago into her bushy mane, and fixed the blood red pendant around her neck. She slipped out of the portrait hole silently and made her way up to the room of requirements through the empty castle.

          Draco was waiting at the opposite end of the corridor, and when she arrived, he made his way over, the door appeared out of solid brick, and he opened the door for her to let her in. Hermione had been in the room of requirements for a lot of reasons through the years, but she’d never seen this room before. It looked like someone had taken all the boxes of knick-knacks and broken things from her grandmother’s basement, and dumped them in a cavernous hall with everyone else’s grandparents’ things. She had never seen so much junk, so many teetering piles of dusty books, so many broken chairs and forgotten sweaters and everything else she could think of.

          “This is the room of hidden things.”

          Draco took her hand and began leading her down a path through the junk. He squeezed her hand and led her in the opposite direction of the vanishing cabinet, covered by an old sheet. He weaved his way past piles and stacks until he stopped at a huge brass statue of a mermaid. They walked behind the statue, and Draco began moving a pile of old socks.

          “This is the room where everything goes that has been lost at Hogwarts over the ages, or anything people wanted to lose.” He finally pulled an old wooden chest from behind the statue, it had dark stained wood and large brass hinges and a lock, but it didn’t look special. Draco knelt down, took an old brass key from his pocket, unlocked it, and opened the lid.

          “What is all of this?”

          Hermione knelt down to look at the contents. Old scraps of paper, photos, bits of jewellery and books.

          “This is my life. Everything I couldn’t bring myself to throw out, but isn’t safe to keep around. The Death Eaters can’t ever find this stuff.”

          Draco and Hermione sat down together and started digging through the chest. Hermione pulled out a pile of letters she’d written him, along with the magical parchment to send notes, and a few other stacks of letters from family, friends, and Severus. She lifted up the kitchen knife she’d gotten him for his birthday, still in its muggle box, the man at the store said it was the best, chefs swore by it. There was a bag of gold coins, in case of emergency, enough, Hermione thought, to get a start on a new life somewhere else if need be. Draco set down a stack of books and Hermione picked up the top one.

          “Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child?” Hermione giggled.

          “It’s your fault, you’re a bad influence on me.” Draco said.

          “I think that’s supposed to be the other way around.”

          Draco pulled out a photo album and they flipped through it together. A small blonde boy on the shoulders of Severus Snape, who was sporting a pony tail. Draco on Lucius’ knee while he played wizard’s chess with Snape. A disgruntled baby screaming and flailing his water-winged arms while Narcissa smiled and held him in a lake.

          “You were such a cute little kid.” Hermione giggled.

          “I’ve always been cute.”

          “What is this?”

          Hermione looked closer at a photo of loch cottage, a sail boat moving magically on the water.

          “Severus must have been lurking around taking pictures of us that day.”

          Suddenly, someone in the photo fell out of the boat.

          Hermione snorted. “That’s the day you insisted on captaining the boat and you fell out.”

          “You pushed me.” Draco said.

          “Tomato, tomahto.” Hermione giggled and turned the page.

          There were some muggle photos Hermione had taken of the cottage, of Draco cooking in the kitchen, of the ruins above Hogwarts, Snape and Hermione coming out of the woods, Snape giving his daughter a piggy back ride. And lastly, the only photo of Hermione and Draco together, another sneaky shot from her dad. They were standing in the kitchen, their backs to the camera, something boiling away on the stove. Draco turned and fed something to Hermione off a spoon. She smiled and he laughed as he wiped the spilled liquid from her lips.

          “I don’t even remember him taking all of these.”

          Draco sighed. “That man was born to be a spy, that’s for sure.”

          Hermione turned to Draco. “Make me a promise, Draco. When this is all over, after the war, when the dust has all settled, we’ll all do it again. We’ll go back to the cottage. We’ll try to sail and get capsized in a cross-wind, and you’ll burn dinner because you took a nap on my lap while I read, and dad will complain for weeks about how there’s too much lawn to cut, and neither of us ever help. Promise me.”

          “I promise.”

          Draco pulled Hermione into a hug and rested his chin ontop of her head of a moment.

          “What are you going to do with all of this stuff.”

          “I’m putting all of it in your care, even the key isn’t safe with me, so I’m giving it to you. But there’s one last thing I need to give you.” He pulled a piece of parchment out of his breast pocket and unfolded it. It was a letter like Hermione had told him to write, explaining the whole situation with the Death Eaters, that he didn’t wish to serve them, but he was in danger. He closed the lid of the trunk and set the letter down, then set down a quill.

          Hermione picked up the quill as she read the parchment. “You know, Draco, this plan will only work if you don’t carry out missions for them, if you put an effort into not helping them.”

          Draco swallowed. “Sign it.”

          Hermione placed her curly scrawl next to Draco’s own signature and folded up the document again.

          “Should we put it inside with the rest, then I’ll lock it and give you the key.” Draco asked.

          “I have a better idea. Give me the key.” Hermione set the old brass key on top of the document and took out her wand. “I saw my dad do this with something once.” She raised her wand and cast the spell, and the letter dissolved into the key, just like Snape’s letter had dissolved into her blood stone. She picked up the key, locked the trunk, shrunk the key magically, and slid it onto the same necklace as the stone from her father.

          “Where has it gone?”

          “It’s in the key, that way it will always be with me if I need it.”

          Draco reached his hand out and touched the red stone on the necklace, then he let it fall against her chest again. “That has strong magic in it, very strong. I’ve felt it before. It doesn’t like me, it’s trying to repel me.”

          Hermione laughed a little at Draco’s serious expression. “Don’t worry about it. My Dad made it for me, it’s a strong protection spell, it’s supposed to stop me from getting hurt. But it wouldn’t surprise me if dad’s idea of protection also included you not touching me.”

          Draco smiled a little. “That makes sense. It’s worth it if it will keep you safe, though it’s a bit unnerving. It’s trying to ward me off, like he’s behind my back, staring at me reproachfully.”

          Hermione took Draco’s hand and stood up. “We should get going. Everyone else will be getting up soon.”

          They moved the chest back behind the statue, covered it again with the mountain of socks, and Hermione took Draco’s and began leading them out. Draco began to slow and came to a stop. He pulled Hermione’s hand so she’d face him.

          “There’s something else.” Draco muttered.

          “What’s wrong?”

          “I’m doing all of this because I’ve made a choice.” Draco looked Hermione in the eyes. “I’m going to tell them when I get home that I can’t do it anymore.”

          “What are you going to say?”

          “I don’t know, that it’s too hard, I’m too young, my magic isn’t strong enough. But just in case I-“

          Hermione cut in. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. This is for the best, everything will work out.”

          “I want you to know everything before I go home.” Draco said. “I want you to have this stuff, and that letter, and know the truth about everything.”

          “I already know the truth, don’t I?” Hermione reached up and stroked his cheek. He wrapped her fingers in his and brought her hand back down.

          “Probably, I don’t know, but I need to say it out loud.” He inhaled. “I love you, Hermione. I have for a long time now. You’re the most important thing in my life. If I could, I’d spend my whole life loving you and keeping you safe and making you happy.”

          Hermione stared at him, mouth gaping. Her hands fell from his grasp and landed at her sides.

          Draco looked down at the ground and grasped his own hands. “It’s alright, Hermione, I know you don’t love me. You love Ron. But you care about me at least, and that’s enough for me. I just needed to say it, in case something happens while I’m gone.”

          “It’s true that I’m in love with Ron.” Hermione whispered. “I have been since first year and I don’t think that will ever change. But, Draco, that doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about anyone else.” She took his hand and held it with both of hers. Draco looked up and saw her eyes welling with tears. “Those days at the cottage, and under the stars, when you held me, when you kissed me, I might have – but all of that seems like another time, a different life.”

          “Maybe in another life, then.” Draco said.

          He pulled his hand from Hermione’s grasp and turned to go. But then she took the back of his neck in her hands and pulled him down to her. Their lips met and Draco hugged her as closely as he could. Neither wanted to let go, neither wanted to stop. It was like their first kiss and their last at once. There was enough heat to fill up an entire lifetime, some alternate world where they could have been happy. Finally, Hermione let her hands slip from Draco’s neck and he leaned his forehead against hers, panting.

          “Be safe, Draco. Be as safe as you can.”

          “I have to do it.” He whispered. “I have to try.”

          “I know.” Hermione had begun to cry again, and Draco kissed her wet cheeks.

          They left the room of requirements and moved in opposite directions, like nothing had happened, neither looking back. Hermione came down to the great hall for breakfast, then grabbed her bag to take home on the train.


	36. Christmas Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is broken up into what Draco , Harry and Ron, and Hermione are doing during their exceedingly different Christmas breaks.

          “Don’t do this, Draco.” Narcissa whispered.

          They were sitting at the breakfast table, ignoring a bowl of scrambled eggs between them.

          “I have to say something.” Draco muttered.

          “No you don’t.”

          “They’re going to find out soon enough that I can’t do it. It’s better to come clean.”

          “Ask Severus, he’ll help you with this.”

          “Not this time.”

          “Draco, please, I can’t lose you too.” Narcissa whispered.

          The door to the dining room opened and one of the death eaters walked in, looking pitifully around the room. “Master Malfoy, you wanted to speak with the dark lord? He will speak with you next week.”

          “I will be escorted to him?” Draco asked, trying to sound strong.

          “He will be arriving here.” The death eater said. “I hope you bring him good news, for your sake.”

* * *

 

          “It is a shame Hermione couldn’t be here.” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’m not sure where we’d put her in such a full house, but it seems odd, everyone here and not her.”

          Ron and Harry were standing in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, Fred leaning over them, teasing. Ron was turning more red as Mrs. Weasley went on.

          “That reminds me.” Fred said, pulling several envelopes from his jacket pocket, “we ran into her at the shop a few days ago, doing a bit of last minute shopping. She said she was sorry she couldn’t stop by, but there were too many family things this year. She told me to send these cards along, though.” He laid them on the table as he read out the names. “The Weasley Family, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley if he stops by. None for Fleur, no big surprise there. And I suppose you two and Ginny already got yours.”

          “Yeah.” Harry said, watching Ron grimace.

          “How lovely, I’ll put it on the mantle. I hope you were polite and said Happy Christmas from all of us.” Mrs. Weasley went into the living room with the cards .

          “You two are having another fight aren’t you?” Fred leaned in and whispered.

          “Shut up.” Ron spat.

          “You should be careful, some day that girl’s going to realise just how good someone else is, compared to you.”

          Fred let himself out the back door to go look for George. Ron sighed and went back to peeling potatoes. Harry watched his friend for a while before speaking.

          “I think he’s right, you should apologise to Hermione. Make up already.”

          “Why do I have to do it, she’s the one who’s overreacting.”

          “It’s not like you’re innocent, Ron. You said a lot of mean things to her too during this feud. Besides, does it matter who’s fault it is? You’re unhappy without her, she’s unhappy without you. Just do it, before it gets worse, like Fred said.”

          “But what about Lavender? She’d kill me if I just dumped her out of the blue. She’d probably cry.” Ron made a face.

          “I’m not saying you have to go out with Hermione. Just apologise. Just be friends again. It’s driving me nuts having to deal with you two not talking, not even being in the same room.”

          “Alright, alright, I’ll apologise when we get back to school.”

          “Good.”

* * *

 

          “Just cut the turkey, Dad.” Hermione said.

          “We can wait a bit longer if you’d like, honey.”

         “No, he isn’t coming.” Hermione sat at her family’s dining room table.

          Her father had set out a fourth plate, in case Severus stopped by. He hadn’t said that he would, but Hermione had hoped he would anyway. She thought of him sitting all alone at Loch Cottage, or perhaps in his office at Hogwarts. Hopefully, Dumbledore would at least force him to come up to the feast.

          Thinking on it, Snape hadn’t even mentioned where he was staying over Christmas break. Probably some other ridiculous plan about keeping Hermione “safe”. She sighed and scooped some cranberry sauce onto her plate. Or maybe he was at the Malfoy manner. It was a pleasant thought that maybe her dad was taking care of Draco instead of spending Christmas dinner with her.

          “Well, for once I agree with that man.” Hermione’s mother said, taking more stuffing. “It’s much too dangerous for him to be coming to this house all the time. It completely defeats the purpose of trying to stay hidden.”

          Hermione lowered her head and focussed on chewing her turkey adequately.

          “Let’s just drop it.” Hermione’s step-dad said. Hermione’s home for Christmas, we’ve got this lovely bird, and the mashed potatoes really turned out well. I put a bit of rosemary in while they were cooking, can you taste it?”

* * *

 

          Draco paced behind the heavy wood door, waiting for Lord Voldemort to speak with him. He was careful to keep his hands at his sides and not fidget, and to keep his mind and heart free from all emotions or thoughts. He just kept focussed on the matter at hand. Finally, one of the Death Eaters that often wandered around the Manor opened the door and waited for Draco to enter. Voldemort was perched on an antique wooden chair, surrounded by many of his more important minions, Wormtail at his right hand as usual.

          “Draco Malfoy.” Voldemort’s voice was like broken glass. “You bring me good news of your efforts, I hope.”

          Draco walked toward Voldemort slowly, then bent low and bowed on one knee. “I’m afraid I do not, My Lord.” Draco whispered. Slowly, he let his gaze rise not quite to Voldemort’s eyes, but close. “The truth is, My Lord, I wanted to speak with you today to tell you I cannot accomplish what you have asked me to do.”

          “Is that so?” Voldemort didn’t move, just stared down at Draco. “You do not wish to serve your lord any more, Draco?”

          “It isn’t that, my lord. It’s only, I can’t accomplish what you have asked.”

          Voldemort’s red eyes dug into Draco’s skull.

          “I’m sorry my lord, better wizards have tried to kill Dumbledore and failed. And even Borgin couldn’t fix the vanishing cabinet. I haven’t even done my NEWTs yet. The magic is just too difficult for me.”

          “I tire of your excuses, Draco. Stop sniveling on the floor like a child.”

          “I understand, my lord.” Draco looked up and swallowed. “I know that I have failed you and I accept the punishment.”

          Voldemort looked at the death eaters flanking Draco, then looked at the small blonde boy in front of him. He let a high, short laugh leave his throat. Voldemort’s laughter grew to a fever pitch then stopped abruptly. “You are very eager to fall upon your sword, young Malfoy. No, if I wanted you dead, you would be already. What I want is for you to finish the task I have assigned you.”

          “But, my Lord, I can’t. I already…”

          “I find ‘can’t’ easily changes sides when I tell people they must. And you must do this for me, Draco, for I have no one else in Hogwarts to do it for me. And surely you don’t really want me to kill you. Leaving your mother all alone, with no one to take care of her. And that cute young thing you have waiting for you at Hogwarts. I’m sure you wouldn’t want anything happening to her.”

          Draco fell silent and looked at the ground.

          “Your occlumency is strong, that’s good. But surely you didn’t think you could keep everything from me, Draco?” Voldemort tisked. “You’ve kept her name and her face hidden well, but little bits of lovey mush keep bubbling up inside your head. You just can’t keep them down. I may not know who she is yet, nor do I much care. Don’t make me change that decision, Draco. Do as your lord commands you to do. Do this, and I promise, no harm will come to your mother or your young love.” Voldemort stood from his chair and stared down at Draco, still on his knees. “I will give you one more chance, Draco, just one. I don’t want to see you again unless you are either successful or succumbing to rigor mortis on the floor.”

          Draco knelt lower on the floor bowing his head. “Yes, my lord. I understand.”

          “Good.” Voldemort looked down on Draco for another moment, then turned to his other death eaters. “Wormtail, you are needed with me. Amycus, discipline Draco for this last outburst. Make sure it is something that sticks.”

            Wormtail scurried out the door behind Voldemort, and the great wooden door closed, leaving the cloaked Death Eater staring down at Draco’s cowering body.


	37. I'll Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco stumbles back to Hogwarts to fall into Hermione's arms. Ron comes back to Hogwarts to apologize to Hermione and make things right. He doesn't find her alone.

          “But you promise you’ll actually apologise. Sincerely?” Harry muttered to Ron as they stood next to the kitchen fire.

          “For the last time, yes.” Ron said. “I was going to do it already, but Ginny said I can’t do it in a letter.”

          “Don’t be stupid.” Ginny said. “Hermione’s one of your best friends, and you hurt her a lot. She deserves a face-to-face apology, at least.”

          “I know.” Ron sighed. “But you know how flustered I get sometimes. There’s less chance of me saying something stupid in a letter.”

          “It’ll be fine.” Harry said, “As soon as you see her in the common room, say ‘I’m sorry’, then if you muck it up and say something dumb after, at least you did get that part out.”

          “Right, sorry first.”

          Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen with an armload of odds and ends. “Ginny, dear, you almost forgot your charms book in the bathroom.”

          “Oops, thanks Mom.”

          “Ron, you left your new sweater on the bed.” This year, it was a colour Mrs. Weasley swore was a light crimson, but to everyone else, it looked pink. “And I’ve packed a few snacks for everyone. Turkey sandwiches, some of that fudge Tonks brought us, and Harry I’ve packed you the last of the treacle tart.”

          “Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry said, hugging the stout woman.

          “You do know they feed us there, right?” Ron said, throwing his pink sweater over his shoulder.

          “It’s not the same as home-cooking. Now, have a good rest of term. Wrtie me soon, and stay out of trouble.”

          There were hugs and kisses all around before Mrs. Weasley ushered them through the fire and they fell out in Professor McGonagall’s office.

          “Welcome back Ginny, Harry, nice sweater Ron.”

          “Do you want it, Professor? It would be a great colour on you.”

          “Stop complaining, I love your mom’s sweaters.” Harry said, sporting his own green sweater with a pattern of red stags and lightning bolts on the front. Harry thought it might just be his new favorite sweater.

          “Easy for you to say, yours isn’t pink.”

          They made their way up to the Gryffindor common room, and Ron immediately started looking for Hermione. Luckily, Lavender didn’t seem to be back yet, but Hermione didn’t seem to be there either. Ron asked around and Pavarti Patil said she’d seen her earlier, but she’d gone out somewhere a few hours ago. Probably the library, Ron thought.

          “Harry, can I borrow your map? I want to find Hermione before Lavender gets here.”

          Hermione had gotten there several hours earlier to make sure she’d be ready for whatever happened. She had made Draco promise to meet her at the top of the Astronomy tower as soon as he got back to Hogwarts. “If I make it back,” Draco had said. Hermione had been waiting up there since ten in the morning, and was planning to wait all night if she had to.

          Harry dug through his trunk until he found the parchment and left it with Ron before going back out to the common room. Ran sat on the edge of his bed, scanning the map. Hermione’s name wasn’t in the library, Gryffindor tower, or in any of the expected hallways between the two. Ron was about to start searching the great hall, which was packed with names moving every which way, when he suddenly saw her name out in the corner of the map. She was all alone in the astronomy tower, pacing back and forth.

          “Why would she be there?” Ron asked himself. “What is she doing up there all alone?”

          A sinking feeling settled in his stomach. Maybe she was avoiding him and Harry. She knew they’d be back soon, had things gotten so bad that she was actively avoiding him? That was when Ron saw another name snaking its way past his thumb, up the tower. Draco Malfoy’s name was slowly climbing the astronomy tower towards Hermione’s name. And there wasn’t another soul near them.

          “Oh no.” Ron whispered.

          He dropped the map on his bed and took off. He weaved through the throng in the common room, pushing Dean out of the way and running out the portrait hole. Any minute now, Hermione was going to be cornered, all alone, with their biggest enemy in Hogwarts. He had to save her. It was all Ron’s fault, he thought as he ran, taking stairs two at a time. If only he’d apologised earlier, or sent that letter during the holidays. Hermione would have stayed in the common room to meet them and she’d have been safe. If Malfoy touched her, Ron would kill him.

         

* * *

 

          Draco had laid on the marble floor for some time after he heard Amycus leave. Slowly, he let his eyes open. He rolled over slowly and got to his knees, coughing and holding his head. New blood splattered the grey stone and he couldn’t be sure if it was from coughing or from the cut below his eye. He tried to straighten up, but a searing pain shot through his chest and ribs. Draco crawled his way to the heavy oak door and used the door jamb to pull himself up. Now standing, he leaned against the wall a moment, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He hadn’t been beaten this badly in a long time. Amycus was skilled at torture and punishment, not only with magic, but with his heavy boots too when Draco had fallen to the ground. Draco pushed open the door and made his way down the hallway, one hand gripping his rib cage, the other bracing himself against the wall as he staggered along.

          It wasn’t long before his mother found him. She slipped her arms around him to help hold him up.

          “Thank God, when I saw Amycus leave, I thought…”

          “I’ll be fine, mother. There’s nothing to worry about.” Draco said, holding back a moan of pain.

          “Come, let’s get you into bed so I can fix you up.”

          “No.” Draco stopped. “I have to get back to Hogwarts.”

          “You can’t go back now. I’ll write them saying you fell ill, you’ll stay here this semester.”

          “I can’t. I have to finish things now. Don’t you see, that’s why he spared me.”

          Narcissa was growing frantic, touching her son’s face. “A week then. You’ll go back when you recover.”

          “I’m fine, I have to go back now.” Draco said. “Snape can fix any injuries. I have to go back.”

          Narcissa stayed quiet as she helped Draco along the corridor. When he made it to the main hall and started toward the fire place, she began panicking again.

          “Draco, you can’t.” She wept, wiping at the blood still dripping from his cut cheek. “My Draco, my boy.” She tried to reach for Draco’s shirt and look at his chest, but Draco backed away, still holding his ribs.

          “Everything’s fine, I’ll be fine. But I need to go.” Draco kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix everything. Nothing is going to happen to us, I’ll make sure of it.”

          Draco made a show of standing up straight and striding into the green flames, taking him to Hogwarts. But as soon as he had made it through, he collapsed onto Severus Snape’s office floor, wincing and barely holding back a yell.

          “What have you done?” Snape rushed to his side, looking down at the state of the boy.

          Whoever had done this had known what he was doing. There were no visible injuries, except a small cut on Draco’s cheek and dried blood around his lips and nose. Snape leaned down and lifted Draco’s shirt, surveying a huge purple bruise across most of his side, and several long, shallow gashes which still oozed blood. Draco moved to sit up, but Severus pushed him down again. The man pulled out his wand and cast a healing spell to stop the blood, but nothing happened.

          “Leave it.” Draco moaned.

          “What?”

          “Amycus, he did a spell so my injuries can’t be healed by magic.”

          “Why?”

          “Because they wanted me to suffer.” Draco muttered, trying to stand up. Snape helped pull the boy to his feet, Draco letting out another moan of anguish.

          “What did you do to anger them? Is Hermione safe?” Snape asked, his voice growing to a growl.

          Draco nearly laughed. “She’s fine. I just tried to quit, that’s all.”

          Snape’s eyes widened and his grip tightened on Draco’s arm. “It didn’t work?”

          “Obviously not.” Draco scoffed, pushing himself away from Snape and towards the door.

          “But-but you aren’t dead!”

          “Not yet.” Draco muttered, opening the door to Snape’s office.

          “Draco, come back!” Snape called.

          Draco stopped and turned to his god father. “There’s nothing you can do for me now, Severus.”

          He left the office, taking several back passages and making his way slowly up, up, up the castle’s many floors. He only had one thing on his mind. He had to get to Hermione. He had to make sure she was safe. He had to kiss her one more time. And if he bled out after that, so be it.

          Hermione was still pacing the floor when Draco pushed open the door. She rushed to him and held his face in her hands.

          “Thank God you’re alright!” Hermione kissed Draco and tried to hug him, but he backed up. “You aren’t alright, are you?”

          “It’s nothing.” Draco whispered, “I’ll survive. All I needed was to come back to you.”

          “Let me see.”

          Draco held his hands to his ribs and shook his head. But Hermione folded her arms over her chest in her usual bossy way and Draco sighed.

          “There’s nothing you can do.” Draco said as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “They used a spell so I can’t be healed by magic.”

          “Oh, Draco.” Hermione whispered, surveying the extent of the damage.

          The cuts on his chest had been slowly bleeding through his shirt, and the bruise on his side was quickly spreading, spanning nearly the whole left side of his ribcage. Hermione pulled out her wand to shine more light on Draco’s mutilated chest.

          “We need to get these cuts bound up quickly.”

          “I told you, they put a spell on me.” Draco whispered, wincing at the touch of Hermione’s cold fingers.

          “Then I’ll have to do it the muggle way.”

          Hermione wasted no time summoning a chair and several bandages which floated through the window from the hospital wing, no doubt. Draco sat down stiffly as Hermione slid his shirt off the rest of the way and began touching and prodding him. First she cleaned the gashes down his chest with a bit of water, then began bandaging them up. As she wrapped the fabric around, Draco nearly cried out from the pain. Hermione stroked his side gently and watched Draco’s face scrunch with the pain.

          “I think you might have broken some ribs.” She started touching more carefully, searching them out. “At least two.”

          “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

          “They can heal. I’m more worried if they’ve punctured something or if you’re bleeding internally.”

          “I don’t think so.” Draco said. “They wanted to hurt me, to make me suffer for a few weeks so I didn’t forget. He certainly didn’t want me to die.”

          “I hope you’re right.” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “I can bandage the cuts and stop the bleeding, but I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about your ribs. They’ll need to heal themselves, which can take time.”

          “You’ve done enough already.” Draco smiled down at Hermione, kneeling in front of him. He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb and she smiled sadly up at him. Then, a great thumping noise came from the stairs and Hermione stood and turned to face it, just as Ron burst through the door, wand held high in front of him.

          “Hermione!” Ron spluttered, out of breath. “You’re alright, but-“

          “Ron, what are you doing here?” Hermione asked.

          Ron let his wand drop a little. “On the map, Malfoy was…”

          Then Draco moved behind Hermione, slipping his shirt on, covering his dark mark. Ron’s wand was up again, and he pulled Hermione away from the chair.

          “Stop it, Ron.” Hermione pushed back, squeezing out of Ron’s grip.

          “Stay back, Hermione. What did you do to her?” He was pointing his wand at Malfoy’s face.

          Draco stayed sitting on the chair, his shirt hanging open around his bandaged abdomen. “I didn’t do anything, look at her, she’s fine.”

          “What was it? A confundus charm, the imperius?”

          “Ron, please, I’m fine.”

          Hermione tried to reach for Ron’s wand hand, but he pushed her away.

          “I didn’t touch her, okay?” Draco shouted.

          “Then why’s she up here with you, hmm?”

          “Let’s just talk about this, Ron, put your wand away.”

          “What did he make you do, Hermione?” Ron asked, still staring Draco down.

          “Nothing happened, Ron. Draco was hurt, so I patched him up.”

          “Draco! You’re calling him Draco?” Ron was still pointing his wand at Malfoy, but had turned to face Hermione now.

          “Well, that is his name.”

          “So you just came up here for some late night first-aid, did you?” Ron shouted.

          Draco stood up slowly, holding his ribs.

          “Look at his bandages, Ron. What did you expect me to do, let him bleed out all over the floor?”

          Ron turned his whole body, brandishing his wand in Hermione’s direction. “This is Draco Malfoy, he’s been your sworn enemy since first year, he makes your life a living hell, and you’re going to help him, just like that?”

          “He’s a human being, Ronald.” Hermione muttered.

          “I’m not her enemy.” Draco said quietly from behind Ron. “I haven’t been for a long time.”

          “Is this where you’ve been running away to all year? Up here to come see him?”

          Hermione tried to push Ron’s wand away from her. “It’s not like that, Ron.” Hermione said.

          “How stupid are you? He’s Malfoy! He’s the one who’s been hurting you since first year!”

          “I’m stupid?” The worry on Hermione’s face blossomed into rage. “Draco’s not the one who’s refused to speak to me half the year. Draco’s not the one who whispers about how better off they are without me, right in front of me. Draco didn’t stop being friends with me just because he found someone to make out with in public! Draco’s girlfriend doesn’t exclaim loudly about how ugly I am every chance she gets!” Hermione was shouting now.

          With every insult, Hermione was jabbing Ron in the chest with her finger. Slowly, Ron was backing up against the door, his wand hanging at his side, fearfully looking at the girl, wandless and so much shorter than him, who looked like she might just kill him. Draco backed well out of the way, knowing better than to get in Hermione’s way.

          “Do you know what the first words Draco ever said about me were? He said, ‘you ought to do something about that hair’, he wasn’t prince charming, but he wasn’t wrong. Do you remember what you said Ron? You turned to Harry and you said, ‘mental, that one is’. You thought I didn’t hear you. I’ve always heard what you said.” Hermione laughed sardonically. “You honestly believe Draco Malfoy is the worst thing to walk into my life, Ron? Are you really that stupid? There’s been one man trying to put me in my place since the start, who swears he cares about me as long as I continue to be this ideal person he’s made up in his head, and the second, THE SECOND I cross over that line, I’m a little too political, or a little too smart, or a little too concerned about consequences, or I act for a second like I might be a girl and not just one of the guys, then he tears me to shreds. Painfully and publicly, he demands that either I go back to pretending I’m some person I have never been, or else he’ll never care about me ever again. That man isn’t Draco, Ronald, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

          Hermione paused, and Ron stared down at her like he’d never seen the girl in front of him before. Draco stepped closer to Hermione and placed his hand on her back as she wiped at her tears.

          “You’re choosing him over me, aren’t you?” Ron said, the anger in him boiling down to a whisper.

          “I’m tired of it, Ron. If you want to be my friend, then start acting like it. If you don’t, there’s the door.”

          Ron stared at the two of them. Hermione staring back at him with rage in her eyes and a grimace on her lips. Draco looked at Ron with nothing but pity.

          “Fine.” Ron whispered. He looked from Draco to Hermione. “Fine!” He shouted, storming out and slamming the door behind him.


	38. Solidarity and Strife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron bursts angrily back into the dormitories and starts explaining what happened, but Harry gives him a piece of his mind instead.

          As Ron went tearing down the staircase and crashing through the halls, his anger boiled over once again. How dare she? He had gone to protect her, he had gone to apologize, instead he was faced with that. Hermione had been the one sneaking around behind him and Harry’s back. Hermione had been the one telling lies. Sure, Ron let his mouth get away from him sometimes, but he was honest at least.

          Ron stormed through the almost empty common room and stomped up the stairs to the sixth year dormitory. He slammed the door behind him, making all the other boys look up.

          “What’s wrong with you?” Seamus asked.

          “I go up there to apologize, what do you think I find? Do you know what she’s doing right now?”

          “Who, Hermione?” Harry sat up now.

          “Yeah, Hermione. You know what that sluts been doing behind everyone’s back?”

          “Ron…” Neville muttered, hoping the redhead would stop for once.

          “You know who that little trap is with right now? Probably half undressed again-“

          “Shut up.” Harry said.

          “What?”

          “Just-just shut up, Ron.” Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You went up there to apologise, remember?

          “But, Harry, she’s-“ Ron yelled.

          “I don’t care, Ron. I don’t care who and I don’t care what, and neither should you. You’ve already got a girlfriend remember?”

          “Harry, she’s been lying to us, don’t you see?”

          Harry rubbed his temples and leaned back on his bed. “I know. I know she hides stuff. I know she lies some times. I know she’s been seeing some guy and for whatever reason she doesn’t want to talk about it. But that’s her business, not ours.”

          Ron sat down and licked his lips. “How can you say that?”

          “Because Hermione’s my friend. Because for whatever reason, she doesn’t want me to know. Out of embarrassment or him saying so or fear I’ll blow up like you did. Whatever it is, that’s her decision. Hermione’s a big girl, Ron. She’s a smart girl, and I trust her to be able to take care of herself and make up her own mind.”

          “So you’re just going to let her do whatever she wants? What if he does something to her? What if she gets hurt?”

          “You’re right.” Harry brushed his fingers through his messy hair. “You’re right, I’ve been letting this go on far too long. And Hermione keeps getting hurt.” Harry looked to the other boys in the dorm room, frowning. “Ron, you’re not seeing Hermione anymore.”

          Ron stood up. “What?”

          “You just keep hurting her, Ron. I give you chance after chance to make it right, and you just keep doing it over and over again. So, I’m not letting you around her anymore.”

          “You can’t do that! Who the fuck do you think you are?” Ron stepped to Harry, towering over his bed.

          Harry pushed himself up and stood nose to nose with his best friend. “I’m the closest thing Hermione’s got to a brother, that’s who. And you two are the only family I’ve got. I’m sorry Ron, but I’ve got to put my foot down.”

          “Come on, Harry.”

          “Did you make her cry?” Harry asked, still standing his ground.

          “I-I didn’t notice.”

          “You didn’t notice? She was standing right in front of you!”

          Ron backed up, his willowy arms flailing in desperation. “It’s Hermione, she cries all the time! She cries over everything!”

          Harry’s lips narrowed into a grimace. “Really, cause I’ve never made her cry. Who else has ever made Hermione cry? Hands up!” Harry looked around to the other boys in the dorm. They all tried to look away like they hadn’t been listening to the fight erupting. “Dean, you ever make Hermione cry? Seamus? Neville?”

          “I did once.” Neville whispered, then he said quickly, trying to explain, “My cauldron sloshed over, some of my shrinking potion got on her, but I don’t think I made it right and it started burning.”

          “So, out of the five of us, Neville accidentally hurt her once, then there’s you, Ron. How many times have you made her cry?”

          “I don’t know.” Ron muttered, sitting down on his bed.

          “Well you did tonight, there’s one. Last month when you told Lavender very loudly that you’d never even liked anyone but her. Two months ago in transfigurations when you made fun of her.” Harry began listing off.

          “When Ginny told her she couldn’t visit at Christmas cause you didn’t want her there, she cried, but I’d say that counts one against you, not against Ginny.” Dean said.

          “Plus at least a week she spent crying after you so delicately started dating lavender, that’s eleven just this year.” Harry said.

          “She cried at least that much in fourth year after the whole yule ball Victor Krum fiasco.” Neville said.

          “And the cat-rat fight in third year.” Seamus said.

          “And the only reason you two became friends in the first place is cause you picked on her so much that she spent a whole afternoon crying in the bathroom and nearly got killed by a troll.” Neville said.

          “And I was the one who decided to go find her. You barely even apologized to her.” Harry said with finality.

          Ron sat with his head in his hands for a long time as Harry stood over him. Eventually, Harry sat next to Ron on his bed.

          “Ron,” Harry started, “What would you do if some guy kept making Ginny cry?”

          “I’d beat the crap out of him.” Ron muttered.

          Dean winced.

          “Well, I’m not going to beat the crap out of you. You’re still my best friend, Ron. But I can’t let you keep doing this to Hermione.” Harry said. “So, you’re not going to talk to her anymore, and you’re not going to hang out with her. Not until you can prove to me that you can care about her the way a friend should.”

          Harry stood up and went to his own bed. “I think we should all go to bed now, it’s well past curfew, and we’ve got potions first thing.

          Ron laid awake in his bed well after the lights went out and Seamus began to snore. Ron had said the same thing Hermione had. He wasn’t being a friend. He knew it. He was acting like a jealous ex-boyfriend. He couldn’t help it though, every time he thought of Hermione with Draco Malfoy he just wanted to wring the little blonde twat’s neck. Every time he thought of Hermione with anyone, really. He hadn’t been any better about Krum. Ron sighed and rolled over in bed. Maybe the rest of the boys were right.


	39. A Slip of Paper

          The next day at breakfast, Hermione sat across from Ginny and Dean and didn’t talk much. Ginny kept smiling solemnly at her and Dean was keeping a careful watch, but neither said much. She assumed Ron had said something about last night and waited for the impending explosion, but there was nothing. Then Ron and Harry came into the hall and made their way down the table. They were whispering to each other and Ron was staring right at her, grimacing. Hermione knew what was coming next, and turned the focus onto her plate, trying to eat as much egg as possible in case she had to leave.

          When Ron finally made it to her, he didn’t even slow down. He kept walking past, his hands clenched into fists, and sat down nearly at the end of the table among a bunch of first years. Hermione did a double take, scrambled egg hanging from her mouth, but Ron wouldn’t look at her. Harry sat down beside her and sighed, pouring some orange juice for himself.

          Hermione swallowed and looked from Ginny and Dean’s serious expressions, to Harry who was trying to hide in his porridge, then back down the table in Ron’s direction.

          “So, I guess we have to talk, then.” Hermione whispered. “I guess Ron told you about last night.”

          “I’m sorry, okay?” Harry turned towards Hermione, “I know I over reacted and I had no right and I should have just let you deal with him I just, I snapped, okay?”

          Hermione’s eyes went big and she dropped her fork. “What did you do?”

          “I banished him.” Harry sighed.

          Hermione turned toward the other house tables for a moment, concerned. But no, there was Draco sitting at his normal breakfast spot. She turned back to Harry with a look of confusion on her face.

          “No, Ron. I told him he wasn’t allowed to go near you anymore.”

          Hermione raised her eyebrows and barely held back a snort. “You what?”

          “You should have seen it.” Dean said across the table. “He shouted at Ron for a good ten minutes. I’m not afraid of meeting your dad anymore, Ginny, I’m more worried about seeing that guy at your house.”

          Harry smiled awkwardly and carded his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean to, it just came out. Ron started ranting and calling you all these names and saying ‘how could she’ and I just snapped. I guess he walked in on you and that guy you’ve been seeing. And I get that it wasn’t the best way to find out about it, but still. I sort of banished him until he could act more like a friend. If you’re upset with me though, I’ll tell him to forget it.” Harry muttered.

          “No,” Hermione laughed. “No, that’s pretty much what I told him too.”

          It was Harry and Ginny’s turn to look astonished now.

          Hermione sighed, “Last night, me and that guy I’m seeing were up in the astronomy tower, and Ron just sort of burst in, I guess he had your map. And he started yelling and I started yelling back and everything that’s been bothering me just sort of came out. It ended in Ron saying I was picking the guy over Ron, and me telling him he could either start acting like a friend, or get out. It probably didn’t help his anger much in hindsight.”

          Hermione sighed and Ginny reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

          “Ron can be a real prat, you’re both right. Maybe this is just the wakeup call he needs to smarten up and be a bit nicer. Don’t worry, Hermione, you and him will make up sooner or later, and hopefully he’ll learn his lesson this time.”

          Hermione gave her friends a sort of half-smile and stared at her breakfast plate. “Harry,” She asked after a moment, “Did he, did he say who I was with?”

          “No, your mystery man is still a mystery.”

          “I don’t see what the big deal is, no one’s going to judge you.” Ginny said, “Unless there’s a big age gap or something like that…”

          “Or he’s actually a she…” Dean suggested.

          “Or he’s Neville or something…” Harry threw in.

          Dean’s eyebrows went up and he leaned into the table, “Neville? You mean you don’t know yet?”

          “What?” The other three leaned in.

          Dean pointed toward the other end of the Gryffindor table where Neville was sitting backwards on the bench, talking to a girl at the Hufflepuff table and entirely ignoring breakfast.

          “Hannah Abbott? No kidding!” Harry said.

          “Yep, me and Dean sort of walked in on them kissing after herbology one day.”

* * *

 

          Ron fled from breakfast as soon as he could and wandered around the castle alone for a while, thinking. He checked his watch at quarter past eight and decided to start his trek slowly to the first class of the term before the morning rush really began. He walked his way out from an empty side hall on the first level, making his way toward the stairs when the last person he wanted to see turned the corner. Draco was wandering alone down the corridors, fists balled at the sides of his pressed white shirt, staring at Ron. He couldn’t believe Draco was there by coincidence. They walked towards each other and for a moment it looked like they might get past one another without conflict. Then Ron felt Draco going for his book bag, and he threw out an elbow into the boy. Ron had hardly pushed him, certainly not tackled him in any way, but still Draco collapsed like a muggle tent in a breeze.

          Ron backed against the wall and looked around to see who Draco was acting for, but they were alone. Draco laid face against the floor, clutching at his rib cage for a long time before making it eventually to his knees.

          “What the fuck was that for?” Draco hissed

          “I barely hit you. And you went for me first.” Ron muttered. “Your ribs are still fucked I see. Does that mean Hermione finally got some sense and refused to fix you up?”

          “She did what she could.” Draco said with a grimace. He set his jaw and tried to stand up straight. He let out a grunt of pain when he tried to straighten his back and went back down to his knees, clutching the broken ribs.

          “What the hell does that mean, she tried?”

          “Like you give a shit.” Draco muttered and rolled onto his back, gasping. “It means they jinxed me. I can’t be healed by magic.” Draco said, staring straight faced at Ron.

          “But-“ Ron mumbled. “You’re one of them, you’re a Malfoy. Shouldn’t you be their poster boy or something?”

          “Yeah, they love me.” Draco started to laugh, which turned into a cough, holding onto his chest. “Fuck,” He mumbled, pulling up his shirt to look at his bandages. “I think I’m bleeding again.”

          “You started it.” Ron took a step forward. “You went for my bag, it was a reflex. What were you playing at?”

          Draco laid his head against the tile floor, looking away from the redhead. “I was trying to be covert, thanks Weaselbee. Front pouch.”

          Ron dug into the open front pouch of his book bag and found a small scrap of parchment. He unfolded it and found three names written in a hurried black scrawl.

          “What’s this supposed to be.”

          “You are thick, aren’t you.” Draco said, finally trying to sit up again. “It’s information. Your dad’s in the Order, so give it to him.”

          “Is this some kind of joke?” Ron’s anger flared, he moved to stand over Draco now. “This some sort of trap your goons have set up for us?”

          “No, it isn’t.” Draco mumbled.

          Ron lifted Draco up by his shirt and pushed him against the wall.

          “What was that, ferret?” Ron whispered. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, why are you giving me these names?”

          “Because I want them to suffer.” Draco said, his steely eyes staring into Ron’s blue orbs. “I want them to be hunted and I want them to be killed.”

          Ron recoiled at the look of rage on Draco’s face, letting go of his shirt.

          “Have you ever felt the cruciatus curse, Ronald Weasley?” Draco asked, sneering.

          Ron stood back up to tower over Draco “Is that a threat?”

          Draco laughed a little. “I have. Three times. Three names.” Draco raises his eyebrows and stared up at Ron, challenging him to say something. “You cannot begin to imagine how little I give a fuck about these people. You give those to the Order. You keep my name out of it. Your people do the best they can to drag ‘em down to the pits of hell. I’ll keep feeding you more.”

          Ron stared down at Draco for a long time, but he couldn’t see anything in his eyes other than revenge. For the first time in six year Ron felt maybe Draco didn’t have some secret plot to fuck him over. Finally, he folded the slip of paper up and put it back in his bag. He extended his hand then and Draco hesitated only slightly before taking it and letting the redhead help him up. Ron turned and walked down the hall, refusing to look back. Malfoy stood holding his ribs for a few more seconds, before slowly walking off himself.


End file.
